


the discourse of alex barnes

by stardustachilles



Category: Dysprosium
Genre: Alternate Universe - D/s, F/F, F/M, Lots of it, M/M, a lot of questionable practices i think, at least theres a happy ending, honestly its been so long i mostly dont remember, mob related activities, sort of manipulation, uh, violence?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-02
Updated: 2018-06-02
Packaged: 2019-05-17 09:31:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 26
Words: 60,073
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14829759
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stardustachilles/pseuds/stardustachilles
Summary: Sara Queen isn’t happy. She has every reason to be, but it’s so difficult sometimes.Alex Barnes has everything she could ever want, and the rest of her life has already been planned out for her.Sara Queen is always in the wrong place at the wrong time. This makes Sara’s life more difficult. Now she has to worry about losing her life to the daughter of the leader of the Russian Mafia.





	1. prologue

Sara’s hands shook. The plastic chair was cold and hard under her legs. Her mother sat beside her, leisurely scrolling through her phone, unconcerned and unaware of Sara’s minor emotional breakdown beside her. They were at the USOR—the United States Orientation Registry—where you get tested for your Operative Orientation: Dominant, Submissive, or baseline. A lot of people were Submissive. More were Dominant. A small percent were baseline.

Most Dominants and submissives were around level three, which was average. The scale went from one to five, one being the most susceptible to their biology and five being the least. The level one Dominants were the most aggressive, and were sometimes given sedatives when they got out of hand. The level one Submissives were the ones who fell into Subspace at even the slightest touch of a dominant hand. There was medication to lessen their reaction to that, too. It was best to be around average. When you were at a five, for the Dominants, they weren’t very commanding at all. For the level five Submissives, it took a lot of effort and concentration to fall into Subspace. Meditating. A level one Dominant.

After you were registered, if you were Submissive you got a bracelet indicating so. Sara thought it was a bit archaic, as were most of the laws surrounding Submissives. You had a choice between three types of bracelets: Leather, cord, or metal. The metal ones were shaped to your wrist, and had a slit so you could take it on and off. Your last name, your first name, your middle initial, the letter S and the number representing your level were carved into it. The cord bracelets were the ones where you pulled both ends of the strings to tighten it. They had a metal plate tied to the strings stating the same information. The leather ones had buckles or snaps, and you had the choice between your information being printed onto a metal plate then attached to the leather, or the information being burned into the leather. Sara didn’t know which one she would pick.

Most kids already knew their orientation, or at least had an idea of what they were before they were even tested. It was mandatory in the United States to be tested at the end of your ninth grade year. You take the test through the school, then you go to the USOR to get your results.

Sara’s phone beeped again and she checked the screen. Four texts from Hayden.

__ _ You’ll be okay. _

__ _ You already know; you’ll be fine. _

__ _ Text me when you get the results. _

__ _ I love you. _

A lady called Sara’s name from behind the counter. Sara stood, glancing to her mother. She looked up for half a second then looked back down. Waved a hand. Sara sighed soundlessly and walked to the front desk herself, taking the file from the old lady sitting there. She got a kind smile in return. Sara’s hand shook imperceptibly as she took the stack of papers. She couldn’t bring herself to open it right now.

She walked back over to her mother, tapping her on the shoulder to indicate she was ready to leave. Her mother smiled, stood, and lead them out to the car to drive them home. Sara’s phone beeped a couple more times on the drive back. Sara didn’t check it. It was most likely more kind and encouraging messages from Hayden. She didn’t know if she could handle that right now. Instead, she stared out the window and clutched the files in her lap.

When they got home, Hayden was sitting on the steps of her front porch. Sara hopped out of the car before her mother pulled into the garage. Hayden stood immediately, and Sara pressed up against her, hooking her chin over her shoulder. Her arms hung by her sides, while Hayden’s came up to Sara’s waist. “Have you looked at the file yet?” she asked, pressing her fingertips into Sara’s shoulder blades. Sara shook her head.

“C’mon,” Hayden whispered into her hair, dropping an arm so she could tangle their fingers together. “Let’s go to your room. We can look at it together.” Sara looked at their linked hands and looked back at Hayden. She nodded.

Hayden led her through her house, up the stairs and into Sara’s room. She sat her on the bed, then sat next to her, up against her side. Sara tucked herself behind Hayden’s shoulder, as if she could shield herself from the file. Hayden pulled it out of Sara’s hand. Sara hadn’t noticed she’d even still been holding it.

“Okay,” Hayden said. She flipped open the top cover. All of Sara’s public information was on the first page. Her medical information on the second. A copy of her personality examination on the third. On the fourth, her test results. If she was a Submissive, page five would be an order form for a bracelet. A sign-up sheet for the Orientation Etiquette Class through the school sophomore year.

Hayden took a deep breath. “Says here, Submissive, level four.”


	2. chapter 1

Sara met Alex when she was sixteen. It was the beginning of her junior year, and school had only been in session for two weeks when the new girl showed up. She was strange, always writing on official-looking paper in another language in her free time, and one of the strongest auras of dominance Sara had ever encountered. She sat by herself at lunch (ate the same thing every day—an apple, a turkey sandwich, and a cup of strawberries with a water bottle. Sara only knew because her table was near where she sat. She wasn’t a stalker or anything). They had almost every class together, except for first hour.

She only found out her first name a week after she came to the school because they had traded papers to grade, due to the teacher dictating the trading pattern. Every single teacher addressed her as ‘Ms. Barnes,’ even the ones who called everyone by their first name or a nickname. Sara had stared at the name on the paper for nearly the entire time it took the class to grade the paper—Alex Barnes. It suited her. (It also surprised Sara that Alex’s paper was even  _ allowed  _ to be peer graded—allowed by whom, she didn’t know, but she wasn’t surprised when all the answers were correct.)

Sara could tell Alex did her best to fly under the radar, but it was hard not to notice her anyway. She had curly, golden blonde hair, that fell nearly past her hips. It was usually in some kind of pleat or braid, or just a ponytail by the end of the day if she had come to school with it down. She was average height, and her style of clothing wasn’t very attention-drawing itself, but it was her eyes. Alex’s eyes practically glowed, the lightest blue Sara had ever seen.

And she just so happened to be one of the prettiest girls in school, along with one of the strongest Dominants. Sara knew she would have been in her friend group with the other popular kids if she hadn’t been so—so weird.

Behavior was everything in high school, and Alex didn’t follow the social norms at all. She was dropped off every morning exactly two minutes before the bell in a black Camaro with tinted windows, and picked up exactly five minutes after school got out by the same car. Sara had casually asked around once, but no one ever saw who was driving the car. Alex didn’t talk to anybody except the teachers, a few of which she seemed oddly chummy with, like they knew each other outside of school or something. Even though all the teachers were Dominants, although low-level, they still seemed to acquiesce to her.

She was always the first in the classroom and the last to leave. She never had homework—Sara knew. She had watched Alex finish a twenty page Algebra packet in the ten minutes of class they had left without even using a calculator once. The teachers even let her work on group projects by herself, which they did for no one else.

And Sara  _ knew  _ for a  _ fact  _ that she and Alex had fourth hour study hall together, after lunch. But Sara had never  _ once  _ seen her there. She disappeared two minutes after lunch got out, and reappeared five minutes (always exact) before the next class started (which was PE, and that was a whole other matter).

Alex was somehow simultaneously the most talked about and least known person in the school. Everyone talked about the pretty Dominant girl who hardly even needed to be in school she was so smart and got picked up in the extremely expensive sports car that wasn’t even out yet, but no one knew Alex Barnes.


	3. chapter 2

Alex showed up at the school at a time in Sara’s life where she was questioning almost everything—particularly, her sexuality. Sara was raised in a Catholic household; she went to church every Sunday, then had Youth Group after. She didn’t necessarily believe in God, but it made her parents happy, so she put up with it. The most rebellious she had ever been was letting her hair grow past her shoulders—she wasn’t about to start revoking the Lord because she didn’t know if He was actually real or not.

Despite all that, Sara caught herself looking at Hayden and Minerva, both Dominants themselves, a little too long, drawing soft curves and breasts instead of hard muscle and pecs when she was doodling mindlessly. Long curly hair instead of short and cropped. Soft jaws and thicker lips instead of sharper jaws and thin lips. She had one hidden sketchbook full of the taboo drawings that she just couldn’t bring herself to throw out.

On Thursdays, Sara’s sister Harley had soccer practice (which Margaret, their mom, took her to) and their dad, David, was working, Sara had the house to herself—the only time it ever happened. So during that one hour of free time, Sara indulged and got herself off. Societally, it was frowned upon for Submissives—and Catholics—to pleasure themselves, but she was very methodical about it. Every week, she waited until she was sure everyone was gone to grab her old vibrating toothbrush that she had cut the bristles off of so it was just soft plastic and put on some music. Nobody knew she did it, and she always made sure no one would find out. It helped with the stress, anyway.

But instead of letting her mind wander over hard chests and big hands, she began imagining soft fingers and long, conditioned hair tickling over her chest. Carefully trimmed and filed nails and cleanly-shaven legs. A slim, soft waist and a delicate throat. She felt guilty afterward every time, but her lucky number (which also just so happened to be the number of times she got off in one hour) became five instead of two, so she let it happen.

All the other times, though, she silently berated herself when she caught herself staring as Hayden flicked her short white hair over her shoulder and bent her head forward to do her homework at lunch. Watching Minerva do her weird ballet stretches with a little more than her usual interest at the beginning of gym class. Girls liking girls isn’t natural, as her (super traditional) father would say. The purpose of intercourse is reproduction, nothing more.

Her father would fight her on this, but Sara didn’t have a problem with people of the same gender liking each other. In fact, two of her best friends, Blue (real name Ben, nickname Blue), a Submissive, and Adam, a Dominant, had started dating as a joke back in fourth grade and never bothered to break up. One thing led to another and now they were an actual couple (which, let’s be honest, everyone saw coming). Sara just wanted them to be happy, and since they had already begun planning their wedding, Sara only saw it logical to support LGBT+ rights. (Adam was a little anal—pun intended—about educating all his friends on the issues, and always had new news at lunch. Every day.) So sure, Sara had no problem.

She just didn’t think it would happen to her.

But nevertheless, by the time school started junior year, Sara was sure of one thing: she wasn’t straight. She didn’t know what she was quite yet, but she knew she didn’t only like boys. It was after school one day when her closest friend, Hayden found out.

 

Sara woke up with her alarm at seven in the morning. It was only the second week of school, and her sleep schedule was still shifted backward from the summer. Sara whined at her phone, resisting the urge to throw it across the room. Instead, she rolled out of bed and crawled over to her closet, comforter hitching a ride on her back.

It was Wednesday—thank God. Wednesdays were the days that Sara, Hayden, Blue, and Minerva coordinated their outfits, which meant that Sara didn’t have to spend twenty minutes in front of her closet in the morning trying to pick an outfit, and she would look good even if she felt like a mess. Sara rummaged through her closet pulling out a navy blue short-sleeved t-shirt that clung to her form, a black pleated skirt, and navy blue tights. Not having the motivation to get up, Sara wiggled into her clothes while staying on the floor, nearly buried in her comforter. 

The comforter ball that was Sara moved across the floor to her desk, an arm and half a head poking out to shove her books from last night into her backpack. Logically, she knew she would have to get out from under the blanket eventually, which filled her with dread. But she had enough time to procrastinate. Procrastination turned into falling back asleep on her floor under a blanket and her sister coming into her room to see why she wasn’t at breakfast. Instead, she had to grab a waffle on the way out the door to catch the bus.  
Sara made her way to the back while Harley stopped in the front to sit by her friends. Sara dropped into her seat beside Hayden and was greeted with a warm hug and a hand on the back of her neck. “You looked tired,” she whispered into Sara’s short chocolate hair. Sara’s eyes were open, staring at the fabric of Hayden’s shirt. She was wearing the same thing as Sara, only her shirt and tights were gray.

“Thanks,” Sara whispered back, sitting up. Hayden kept her hand on Sara’s neck for a moment longer before letting it drop. She turned to the seat across from them, where Minerva and Roman were sitting. Minerva matched Hayden and Sara, only in white. It went well with her short black hair, the same way Hayden’s did with her short white hair. Blue and Adam poked their heads over the seat in front of Sara with devilish smiles on their faces. Blue was wearing the same thing as the girls, only in all black. He was the one who had coordinated this week’s outfit, most likely with input from Adam.

Their conversations carried on as normal, over the half hour bus ride. They made fun of Adam and Blue for being gross, complained about all the homework the teachers were already giving them, and talked about current events, and before Sara knew it, Hayden was grabbing her hand and dragging her off the bus. (“Gay,” Blue whispered in Adam’s ear, purposely loud enough for Hayden and Sara to hear them. “I think that’s the point, darling,” Adam whispered back, slapping Blue on the ass then grabbing his waist possessively.) They went to Roman’s locker first, since he was the first in the alphabet out of their friend group. Next was Adam, then Sara, then Hayden and Minerva, and finally Blue.

Coincidentally, Blue’s locker was at the end of the hallway, where Sara and Hayden had their first class, Chemistry. They were only taking notes today, so there wouldn’t be any homework. Sara took notes in what she called her trash notebook, the one she wrote all the notes in so she could copy them down neatly into her Chemistry notebook. (Hayden: “Oh my God, you’re ridiculously organized still; I love you.”) Class went quickly, and Sara understood most of what they talked about. (“Today, kids, we’re gonna learn what not to mix if you don’t want to get blown up!”)

Second hour Sara had Algebra, with Minerva and Adam. If she hadn’t been so dedicated to graduating with a four-point-zero grade point average, Minerva would have been more social during that hour, but she focused on her work and left Sara and Adam to gossip about her playfully behind her back. (Sara: “Oh my God, did you see Minerva Rockwell’s hair today? It’s like she didn’t even brush it!” Adam: “Totally! My cat has better hair than she does!” Minerva: “You guys do know you’re sitting directly behind me, right?”) As always, they had homework in Algebra, which Sara promised herself she would finish during study hall.

Next was Biology, which Sara always looked forward to. They didn’t have to dissect anything this year; instead, they were working with theoreticals—a lot easier than cutting open a dead frog. Sara enjoyed working with genes, and doing the Punnett Squares were her favorite. It helped, since only Roman was in that class, that she was fond of the work. She and Roman were partners for the assignment, and they got through it so fast they had most of the class period to talk. (Roman: “If you love biology this much, you really need to get out more.” Sara: “Look who’s talking, asshole.”)

And finally there was lunch; the long awaited (by the students) and greatly dreaded (by the teachers) event that brought nearly three hundred students (half of the school) into one large room where they could get away with being loud and (most of the time) throwing food at each other until someone got hurt. Sara was lucky enough to have lunch with her entire squad, and they occupied one of the tables near the back, where the big windows were.

Minerva was the last to the table, carrying her tray in one hand. She took her pre-appointed seat beside Blue, setting the tray on the table. “Does anyone actually know what’s in this chicken?” she asked, poking it with a plastic fork.

“As long as it’s not animal parts, you’re safe,” Roman deadpanned from the other side of the table. Adam jerked across from him, and Sara could tell he had kicked Roman’s leg under the table.

Sara looked to her left, a blank expression on her face. “I believe you have a fundamental misunderstanding of what chicken is composed.” Hayden snorted ineloquently, slapping Sara on the arm, and Roman flicked a kernel of corn at them.

Not long after, she, Minerva, and Hayden had Study Hall. Study Hall was easy because they all sat in a row and the teacher didn’t care if they passed notes as long as they were quiet. It was usually the longest forty-nine minutes of Sara’s day, despite having her friends with her. As of now, her book was boring, she didn’t have any inspiration to draw, and Hayden and Minerva were working together on homework that Sara had already finished.

So instead of doing something productive, she doodled on a piece of scrap paper the entire time. Long, curvy legs, soft hair, trim waists with barely defined musculature. Before she knew it the hour was over and she was discreetly slipping the paper into her backpack. Her entire group met back up in the gym for PE, Adam, Blue, and Roman breaking off to change in the boy’s locker room.

Today was a game day, which meant, for Sara, an hour of hiding behind Adam (since he was the biggest) and trying not to get hit while they played kickball. Adam, Roman, Minerva, Hayden, and surprisingly, Blue, were much more athletic than Sara, so all of them did their best to keep Sara away from the ball at all times. (For Sara’s benefit, and the team’s.)

Sara made it through PE with only having to kick the ball once and not sweating at all, which she considered a win. There had been a close call where Sara had stepped out from behind Adam and almost gotten hit in the face, but luckily Adam’s hand had shot out to catch the ball and save her. Their PE teacher didn’t even try to make Sara participate anymore, with how often she got hit with flying objects. She still got full marks, though.

After they all got dressed again, Sara and Blue broke off to go to History. The teacher was new, which meant you could get away with a lot. It probably didn’t help that Sara and Blue sat right beside each other, because they talked nearly the entire time. (Sara: “You did really well on the outfits this week!” Blue: “Thanks; I had a lot of input from Adam on the skirt part.” Sara: “Figures. We all know how he is about your legs.”)

Leaving sixth hour with no homework, Sara’s seventh and final hour was English, with Adam. Their teacher was a strange dude, somehow overenthusiastic and apathetic at the same time. Sara liked the guy. All they had to do was do a Literary Terms worksheet with a partner. Conveniently, Sara and Adam sat right beside each other, and they got the worksheet done within five minutes, so they had the rest of the time to talk. (Sara: “Blue and I were talking about you last hour.” Adam: “Unsurprising. What inappropriate factoid did you learn about me today?” Sara: “Well, I already know how big your dick is, so I don’t really know what could beat that.”)

Hayden and Sara walked home from school together on Wednesdays, mostly because they lived relatively near each other and Sara’s bus ride on that particular day was unbearably long. They were walking past the park, where a group of girls were having a water balloon fight in their bikinis. Sara must have stared for longer than what was considered ‘normal’, because Hayden nudged her and asked, “What’s got you so enthralled?”

Sara panicked for a second, trying to come up a viable excuse and failing, before muttering, “Nothing,” a minute too late.

Hayden stopped her by the arm. “No, tell me. You’ve been acting a little weird for like a month now. What’s going on?” It was said kindly but with enough firmness that Sara couldn’t refuse to answer. Hayden’s trimmed nails dug into her pale skin, turning it a light yellow. Sara knew she had to answer, and Hayden’s commanding tone wasn’t helping much. Sara buckled under hard voices that left no room for argument.

Sara touched Hayden’s knuckles lightly, and Hayden released her arm immediately, instead sliding her hand down Sara’s arm so she could press their wrists together and twine their fingers. That small action calmed Sara, giving her the courage to provide a truthful answer to the unintentionally weighty question.

“I guess I’ve just been…questioning, lately,” Sara said lamely, shrugging. It wasn’t exactly a lie, but it wasn’t the whole truth, either.

“What?” Hayden exclaimed quietly. She pulled them off of the sidewalk, tips of her hair and skirt brushing into Sara due to their proximity. “Questioning? Questioning what?”

Sara’s empty backpack felt heavy on her shoulders when she shrugged again. “I dunno…like, everything, I guess?”

Hayden’s nose pinched up in the way it did when people didn’t answer her directly. “You’re gonna need to elaborate, Sara. Questioning everything doesn’t help us with our current situation.”

“I guess like mainly…my…sexuality…’n stuff.” Sara didn’t look Hayden in the eye. Part of her expected Hayden to drop her hand in disgust and never talk to her again, but the logical part of her knew that wouldn’t happen. Hayden loved her. She made a point to tell Sara that every day.

“Have you made any conclusions?” Hayden asked, squeezing Sara’s hand tighter subconsciously.

“I know I don’t exclusively like boys,” Sara said, voice raising an octave. If Hayden hadn’t been holding her hand so tightly it would have been shaking. The other one gripping the strap of her backpack, white-knuckled.

Hayden sighed, smiling slightly. She let go of Sara’s hand and instead moved it to the back of Sara’s head, covering her hairline and the nape of her neck, fingers threading through Sara’s hair. Hayden’s other hand grabbed Sara’s waist, not roughly, but with considerable strength. Everything about Hayden was strong and firm and dominant. She hauled Sara into a hug.

“I know it’s hard, figuring all this out,” she said, Sara’s nose in her neck. “Thank you for telling me. I won’t tell anyone until you’re okay with it, alright?” Sara nodded, head tucked under Hayden’s jaw. “Do you mind if I still kiss you?” Sara smiled, and shook her head.

Hayden pulled her head back and pressed a light, chaste kiss to the corner of Sara’s mouth. It felt like a weight was lifted from Sara’s shoulders, knowing nothing would change, especially the way Hayden acted around her. Hayden was big on platonic affection, since she was aromantic. She did it with their entire group of friends, unless one of them asked specifically for her to stop, like Roman had the beginning of sophomore year. Hayden had complied, and instead of kissing him on the mouth, she kissed him on the forehead.

“Now c’mon,” Hayden said. Her smile was infectious, and Sara found herself smiling, too. “I have a ton of math homework tonight.” She took Sara’s hand again, leading her down the sidewalk, and that was that.


	4. chapter 3

The morning Alex first showed up, Sara had woken up late, had almost missed her bus, and had had to do homework on the way to school that she had forgotten the night before. She was frazzled, and Hayden wasn’t there because she had gone to school early to drive with the instructor. Instead, Roman hovered over Sara, giving her answers to the homework that he remembered. His presence was comforting, because he was baseline, and it wasn’t as comforting as Hayden would have been.

“How’ve you been?” Hayden asked when they met up before first hour, slipping her hand into Sara’s outstretched one. “Been keeping these guys in line?”

Adam barked a laugh from where he was bent over a book with Blue at the cafeteria table. “We all know Sara’s only second because she’s your favorite.”

“I do not play favorites,” Hayden claimed indignantly, pulling Sara minutely closer.

“Just yesterday,” Minerva butt in, “I heard you say that Sara was your favorite.”

“It’s true,” Roman confirmed. “I was there; I heard it.”

“Traitors,” Hayden exclaimed, throwing her unoccupied hand up. “All of you.” Blue giggled into his book. Suddenly, a roar shot up from the parking lot outside of the windows, and Sara’s flinched just the slightest bit. Hayden’s hand dropped to Sara’s thigh, subconsciously comforting her, as all of their heads turned to look at what caused the noise. They caught the tail end of a black Camaro speeding out of the parking lot and a blonde girl walking up to the front doors of the school.

The girl had her hair tied back in a braid, reaching the small of her back. It fell over a worn-looking leather biker jacket, sufficiently scuffed. A white t-shirt poked out from beneath it, stretching over the girl’s hips. She had on the tightest pair of dark wash skinny jeans Sara had ever seen, tucked into unostentatious black combat boots. Her nose was slightly upturned at the end, thin eyebrows, and bow-shaped lips with a full bottom lip. From what Sara could tell, she wasn’t wearing any makeup, and her eyes were hidden from dark-tinted RayBans.

Sara noticed the way she walked, hips first, like she owned the place. She looked like a model, and Sara couldn’t help but wonder if they were reading the same book, and if she had a chance with her. After she had come out to Hayden, Sara had subtly started dropping hints to the rest of their friends. They had figured it out quickly, and were of course supportive, if not teasing for her not figuring it out sooner, because, apparently, it wasn’t that much of a surprise.

When the girl entered the school, they lost sight of her, and Minerva spoke up. “I wonder who that is,” she questioned, shoving a fry in her mouth that had mysteriously appeared out of her backpack. “She’s cute.”

Roman elbowed Sara gently from beside her, a sly grin on his face. “Maybe Sara has a chance with her,” he said, flicking his tongue out obnoxiously. “They’re in the same league.”

Sara blushed, as she did whenever anyone complimented her, and hid her face in Hayden’s shoulder. Hayden laughed and rested a hand between Sara’s shoulder blades, scratching slightly with the tips of her nails. Sara shivered. How did Hayden know things about her before Sara knew them herself?

It turned out that Sara had almost every class with the new girl, except for first hour, which the new girl had with Minerva. The new girl never talked in any of her classes, except to the teachers. All of them, even the PE teacher, who respected no one, called her Ms. Barnes. Sara’s head jerked up when she first heard it. Barnes. It sounded achingly familiar, but there were a lot of Barnes’s in the Chicago area. It probably meant nothing.

Minerva told Sara that Barnes excelled in their first hour, AP Chemistry. It was a class meant for seniors, with the exception of Minerva, whose previous school had put her a year ahead in science, and now Barnes. Sara watched her in Algebra, and Barnes read a book nearly the entire time, only scribbling down a couple notes during the hour and still finishing her homework before everyone else. Sara knew for a fact that Barnes was ahead of all of them in Biology, even Roman. And Roman was the top of their class in Bio.

Barnes sat alone at lunch, at a table near the window, watching alertly out the window like something or someone might attack the school and she would have to be the one to defend it. Barnes disappeared after lunch, and didn’t reappear until just after study hall, every day. No one knew where she went, they only knew that it was the black Camaro that picked her up and dropped her off again.

In History, the new teacher, Mr. Kashnakov (short version Mr. K or Mr. Kash), never called on Barnes, and he was one of those teachers that called on people randomly. Mr. Kashnakov was a young guy, stout yet burly, and couldn’t have been more than twenty-five. He and Barnes shared looks throughout the class, almost like they had an ongoing conversation separate from what was happening in real-time.

English was the strangest class, though, in terms of Barnes’s activities. She sat at a table alone in the back, which no one ever did, writing and filling out papers in a strange language that almost looked Russian. Sara had no idea what she was writing, but it seemed fairly important, based on the intensely focused look on Barnes’s face. That was the look that scared most people away, except for the brave (or ignorant) few that did approach her. They were met with a death-inspiring glare, and they turned away before they could get two feet away from Barnes. It was that glare that kept Sara from approaching her. She’d had her life full of withering looks from people she was at least slightly afraid of, and Sara didn’t need to add another one.

It was nearly a month after Alex had come to school that Sara had any interaction with her. She had learned her name at this point, but still referred to her as ‘Barnes’ when speaking. But anyway, the situation was: Sara really had to go to the bathroom after lunch, and the nearest bathroom was the mostly-abandoned one that no one used because it was gross and in an inconvenient spot. Sara bustled in, sliding into the first cubicle she could.

It was then she heard a voice coming from the back of the bathroom, where the handicapped stall was. The voice rang out clearly, foreign to Sara, as she had never heard it before. And she knew everyone’s voice.

“You have  _ got  _ to stop leaving dead bodies in my kitchen.”

Sara froze with her pants halfway down her thighs, eyes growing wide. That did not sound good. There was a pause from the handicapped stall, then she heard the person, clearly female, bark out a mean-sounding laugh.

“It is not  _ my  _ fault. I didn’t know what to do with the last one! You said to bring it to you if I ever had any questions, and I didn’t know what to do with him! The morgue was full, and I wasn’t exactly in the position to make a fire. Henry can attest to that.”

There was another pause, longer this time, and it sounded like the girl was chewing something. Sara could still hear her voice resounding through the bathroom, even though she wasn’t talking anymore. It had sounded cheerful, like she was genuinely happy bantering about very illegal acts with the mysterious person she was mysteriously talking to, which Sara just assumed was a phone.

The girl spoke again, voice softer and more comforting this time, but it still had the arrogant-yet-loving undertone to it. “I’m like seventy-five percent sure it won’t blow up on us.”

This conversation was getting stranger and more dangerous by the second, and Sara still had to pee. She was about to give up and make the treck to the other bathroom before class, but then something beeped on what Sara assumed was the girl’s phone, and the girl said, “Hang on, I gotta go. James is almost here to pick me up and I’m on the far side of the building. You know he doesn’t like waiting. I’ll talk to you again when I get home. Bye, Nikki.”

Sara heard a bag being lifted from the ground and the stall door open, and footsteps leaving the bathroom. Sara sighed in relief, that the person was gone and she could finally pee in peace.

When Sara opened the stall door, hefting her bag onto her back, she was met by piercing ice blue eyes studying her, and the person they belonged to leaning against the wall casually, with her ever-present leather jacket. Alex Barnes.

“Hey,” she said casually, in the voice Sara had heard talking not even a minute ago, one arm crossed over her stomach and the other resting on it, picking her nails.

Sara froze again. She had no idea what to say, what to do. There was hardly a foot and a half between herself and Alex, and she could smell the gentle wooded and roughened leather scent emanating from her. She was wearing a small necklace that Sara hadn’t noticed before, a small silver spider that hung from the chain that clung to the column of Alex’s neck.

Oh shit.

The small silver spider was the symbol of the Russian Mafia. The group that had been terrorizing Sara’s father, the cop, run by Joshua Barnes and—

_ Oh _ .

Barnes. That’s where she had heard it before. Joshua Barnes had an elusive daughter named Alex, who just so happened to be around Sara’s age.

_ Oh shit _ .

This was bad.

“You and I both know what you just heard in there,” Alex spoke again, and Sara had to focus on not getting distracted by the way Alex’s lips formed words, by the way her eyelashes nearly brushed the tops of her cheeks when she blinked.

“And you and I both know what will happen if you ever speak of it,” Alex continued, putting a single-minded focus into threatening Sara. If the situation had been any different, Sara would have been flattered. “Your father, David, your mother, Margaret, your sister, Harley, and all your friends, Hayden, Minerva, Roman, Blue, Adam; for their sake, I would keep your mouth shut, beautiful.”

Sara blushed at the last word, despite the threat that had just been laid out to her. She was cold and shaking on the inside, terrified of what could—no, would—happen to the people she loved if she ever talked, but at this point, there was no controlling when she blushed. She knew that Alex used flattery to weasel her way out of things, and she could tell why it worked. With the heavy gaze that wasn’t quite a glare, and the unconcerned upturn of her lips.

“Now, doll,” Alex said, flipping her phone out of her back pocket and reading whatever was on the screen before flipping it again and putting it away. “Carry on with your life as normal. As long as you don’t talk, don’t speak a word of this, we won’t have a problem.” Another alluring smile, and Alex began to walk out. “But if you ever get bored, come find me.” She scanned up and down Sara’s body, and Sara felt like she was being dissected. “You’re cute.”

Sara spent another couple of seconds trying to compose herself, washing her hands and rubbing her fingers across the rough straps of her backpack. She had to hurry to study hall to make it on time, but when she finally sat down beside Hayden, the tremors in her hands were mostly gone. Hayden looked at her, slightly concerned, but relented to setting a hand on Sara’s thigh when Sara just shook her head. There was no way she was going to talk.


	5. chapter 4

James had his hand on the gearshift when Alex slid into the Camaro and dropped her messenger bag by her feet. Technically, it was her car, but since she had been forced to attend a public high school, she had let James borrow it. Seven hours of her day were taken up by that hell hole—it wasn’t like she had much time to drive it anyway, what with work and homework and being forced to socialized with both insipid teenagers and the people in the Bratva.

“You were eight seconds late,” James said, shifting gears and peeling out of the parking lot. Alex didn’t bother to buckle her seatbelt—she was used to James’s driving, and nobody could see through the car’s blacked-out windows. And there was the fact that it was more dangerous for her to stand on the sidewalk out in the open than ride in a fast-moving car without a seatbelt. Whatever.

“I got distracted,” Alex said dismissively. James wouldn’t ask her to elaborate, but she did anyway. “Someone overheard my conversation with Nikolay. I had to make sure they wouldn’t talk.”

“You didn’t just kill them?” James asked, making an illegal left turn at an intersection. There were no cars around. It was the middle of the day, and everybody was either at work or in school. Who cared.

“People would miss her. It wasn’t an option.” Alex shoved her feet up on the dash and rested her elbow against the window, chewing the end of her fingers. It was the one subconscious tick she allowed herself. The rest were intentional. The skin of her right ring finger was chewed raw, but it didn’t matter. It didn’t affect her ability to make a fist. On an unrelated note, her knuckles were still tender and bruised.

“Do you think she’s gonna talk?” James asked. He didn’t look at her when he spoke, because he knew his place and it wasn’t six o’clock yet. Which was when James went from being on Alex’s father’s payroll to just being Alex’s friend and adopted brother.

“Doesn’t matter,” Alex answered shortly. Her phone buzzed and she pulled it out of her pocket, but it was just Henry texting her an update on the school’s safety. Every hour on the hour, to Alex, her father, and James. Alex hated it, but it was necessary if she wanted to continue going to the high school.

Which she didn’t, but after that last mission, her father had forced her. He said something along the lines of, “You fucked up so bad, you deserve it.” Not in so many words, but Alex had fucked up monumentally, and she did kind of deserve it. There had been conditions: four-point-o GPA, no detentions or anything of the sort, and she had to report to Henry every day during lunch. It was stupid, and Alex hated it. James hadn’t even been allowed to come with her.

“Turn left here,” Alex directed when she looked up. She didn’t have time to go all the way home, but there was a nice little bakery that was under her father’s jurisdiction that wasn’t too far. It was run by a guy named Oliver, and his husband Sebastian. Alex would say she loved them, but she loved nothing.   


Oliver had been around for years, and although Alex knew he had joined when Alex was seven, it seemed like he had been there forever. Sebastian had wanted to join, too, but he was a Submissive, and they could only be involved if their spouses were. Alex’s father had gotten complaints before about that rule, but it was mostly for the Bratva’s safety.

James pulled into the parking lot of the bakery and threw the car into park, Alex grabbed her bag, and they climbed out of it simultaneously, slamming the doors. James didn’t bother to lock it. Everybody knew Alex’s car, and they wouldn’t mess with it, especially not on her father’s territory. The glass door jingled when Alex pushed through it, James falling into step behind her respectfully. They had appearances to maintain.

Alex was greeted by nods when she dropped down into a table in the corner. Sebastian came over with a slight smile, in an apron with a organic fat-free low-calorie blueberry muffin for Alex (she had to keep her figure somehow) and a slice of cherry pie for James. Alex smiled back and allowed Sebastian to rest a hand on her shoulder and kiss the top of her head. He patted James on the back and went back into the kitchen, where Alex assumed Oliver was.

Alex took a bite of her muffin and pulled a binder and pencil out of her bag, starting on her chem homework. It was easy, but she hadn’t had time during any of her classes this morning.

“Really?” James asked. “I’m surprised you’re even required to do homework.”

“Four-point-o GPA, remember?” Alex muttered, scribbling down answers in her exceedingly neat handwriting that only came from her left hand. It was helpful being ambidextrous, because her right hand was usually used for writing in Russian, so it wasn’t all that great at the English alphabet and the words usually came out incredibly messy.   


“You don’t have people do that for you?” James asked.

“Nobody’s as smart as me,” Alex answered, not looking up. It wasn’t like she was bragging; it was true. The only one who could beat her as a jack-of-all-trades was her father. Of course, the Bratva had specialists who were better at specific things than Alex, but it was easier to get it all done in one sitting, so Alex did it herself.

James stared out the window and ate his pie while Alex nibbled on her muffin and finished all of her homework from her morning classes. Alex could feel him tense from across the table when a car pulled into the parking lot, but it pulled back out right away and he relaxed again. Alex felt herself smirk. He was only three years older than her, but he had been trained for a long time to have his sole focus be keeping Alex safe. When they were young, it was only against trivial things—catching her if she fell out of a tree (which she never did), or taking a bite of her food first when they were in unfamiliar places, in case it was poisoned.

Alex crossed her legs under the table, letting her foot rest in James’s lap across from her. He shot her a glance and wrapped a hand around her ankle. It was a gesture—he felt safe enough here to act on a level of vulnerability—this wasn’t the best position to be in if they were attacked. Alex smiled and pushed the rest of her muffin over to James.


	6. chapter 5

The next time Sara ran into Alex, it was purely by accident, once again. She was going to Mr. K’s classroom during lunch to ask a question about early Ancient Greek culture, when she stopped abruptly in the doorway, taking the scene in before her.

Alex was sitting on Mr. K’s desk, their heads tilted together. They seemed to be having a conversation with their eyes, like they did often. Alex’s hand was placed gently on her left ribs, and Mr. K had one hand hovering near it, the other resting on a knee of her crossed legs. Sara wondered if she had walked in on something, which she obviously had, but rapidly dismissed the thought in favor of watching the display in front of her. Though she did tuck herself behind the doorframe, where she could see them but they couldn’t see her.

Mr. K breathed a long sigh through his nose, leaning back and dropping his hovering hand but not removing the one on Alex’s knee. “‘Have I told you lately,’” He said, sounding like he was quoting something, his voice an octave deeper than it was when he taught, with the hint of an accent at the edges. “‘That the night reminds me of ashes, of the soot that lines the scars upon your skin? You’ve known your pyre for years now.’”

The corners of Alex’s mouth quirked. That phrase must have meant something more between them than just the conglomerate of words alone meant. “‘Troy and nights of bitter ashes,’” Alex quoted back, voice with the same inflictions. She set a hand atop Mr. K’s on her knee, not dropping the hand on her ribs. “I know. I need to be more careful. I’ll do better next time.”

“You nearly gave my father and I a heart attack,” Mr. K said, squeezing Alex’s knee. “Your father, too, to be precise. You’re not invincible, Alex, despite what you think. You’ve had one foot in the grave since you were born; you don’t need to put the other one in there, too.”

“But for being half dead,” Alex said, smiling somewhat ruefully, “I sure am indestructible.”

Mr. K shook his head, a hint of a smile on his face. “You know I love you, you’re like my sister, but that doesn’t mean I won’t beat you up for being stupid.”

Alex snorted and muttered something that sounded like, “You wish you could,” hopping down from Mr. K’s desk. Louder, she said, “Thanks, Henry. I needed the break.” Alex, turned, and Sara pulled her head out of view as quickly as she could, but for one, short moment, Alex’s eyes locked on Sara’s and Sara knew she was in for a treat.

Alex cornered her in the bathroom later that day, not quite pushing, but crowding Sara into the handicapped stall at the back of the room. Sara’s back hit the brick and she pressed her hands against the wall, trying not to show her momentary panic.

“Somehow,” Alex started, and Sara now noticed the way she moved carefully around her allegedly-injured ribs, “you always seem to end up in the wrong place at the wrong time.” She drew a thumbnail across her lip, and the skin flashed white for a fraction of a second.

“...Sorry?” Sara said, trying to sound apologetic but probably missing and sounding questioning instead. She was nearly shaking, and she couldn’t help but recall the threat Alex had left her with in this bathroom the last time.

“Oh, no need to apologize,” Alex consoled, but it didn’t sound very comforting. There was a venomous undertone that fell from beneath Alex’s tongue, barely discernible, unless you were looking for it. “I’ll just have to deal with it some other way, since killing you seems to be out of the question. You have too many people that would miss you.”

And once again, Sara was monumentally grateful for everyone in her life.

Alex made a show of considering her options, crossing her right arm across her stomach and resting the other on it, fingers framing her chin. Sara knew the arm across her stomach wasn’t for show, though. She knew Alex had injured her ribs on the left side. For Alex to even display the weakness the slightest bit, it must have really hurt. People like her didn’t show weakness easily.

“I know you’re home alone for an hour on Thursday nights,” Alex said, sounding like she had just come up with the idea of the century. Sara found it disturbing that Alex probably knew her entire family’s exact schedule, but she wasn’t surprised. “Maybe I’ll show up sometime.” Alex’s eyes flashed and she smiled in a way that emphasized the unnatural sharpness of her canines. Sara was terrified, sure, but she also thought of the things those teeth could do to her skin, given the right opportunity.


	7. chapter 6

“You make bad decisions, you know that?” James said, rolling over on Alex’s bed. Alex had just told him what she had done earlier that day, and since it was after six o’clock, he could give his actual opinion while lazing around in Alex’s room.

Alex spun in her desk chair, licking over her teeth. She had had her canines sharpened after they had fully grown in, just like her father had. For a while, James had liked to playfully shove his hand in her mouth so he could feel them and tease her about being a vampire.

“Shut up,” she snapped, spitting the pen she was chewing on onto the desk. She didn’t have an actual response because she was well aware she made bad decisions.

James reached out with grabby hands toward Alex, who sighed and came to sit on his stomach. She could feel James tense, and saw his abs peeking out from under her. He usually complained about Alex keeping her room too warm, and protested it by taking off his shirt. Alex wasn’t wearing a shirt either, but that was because she had an ice pack tied around her bruised ribs beneath her sports bra but above her sweatpants.

James lifted up the edge of the ice pack so he could check her ribs and Alex smacked his hand away. He was partially trained as an emergency medical doctor, because Alex had a tendency to get into a lot of fights and she didn’t really trust anyone else.

“I’ll wait a block away with the car,” he said, relenting and resting his hands on Alex’s thighs. Alex nodded, bearing down a little more because she knew that made it harder for James to breathe and she was just a little bit mean. He didn’t do anything about it, so he probably didn’t really mind. She set her hand on his sternum and pressed down, digging her nails into his skin, trying to get a rise out of him for no particular reason.

James didn’t rise to the bait, because he had years of practicing his patience around Alex and probably didn’t feel like fighting her while she was injured. Otherwise they would probably be brawling at this point. Brutal, but fun.

“How about we just watch  _ Fight Club _ again and go to bed. You have to be up in like nine hours for school, and I have to take you. You know how much I hate waking up,” James proposed. He poked Alex in the abs, pinching the skin lightly. Apparently that was his retaliation. Alex sighed internally. Even though she was hurt, she still wanted to scratch that itch. Fighting was what she was best at, mostly from a lot of practice.

“Fine,” Alex relented, and shifted off of James so he could grab her laptop, ignoring the flatscreen TV on the wall across from the bed. Alex liked the warmth of the laptop on her thigh. She settled against the myriad of pillows stacked against the headboard. James opened the laptop as he laid beside her, on the wrong side of the bed. On their normal sides, Alex’s injured ribs would have been pressing against James, so, like whenever Alex injured her left side, they switched sides until she healed.

James lifted his arm so Alex could tuck herself beneath it. She only let him do this when she was hurt, and she knew he took advantage of it. He was the affectionate one in their, strange, complicated relationship.

The movie started after a couple of minutes of James tapping around on the laptop and Alex let herself close her eyes for a moment. She could feel sleep hovering around the edges, but she pushed it back, because she loved this movie and she knew James would fall asleep halfway through, and she really didn’t want to accidentally kick the laptop off her bed in the middle of the night. It had happened before.


	8. chapter 7

Sara didn’t even bother setting up for her usual Thursday night activities, with the threat—no, promise—of Alex’s arrival fresh in her mind. It was all she had been thinking about for two days. What would Alex do when she came? Would Sara be safe? She knew where the gun was in the house, and she knew how to use it, but Sara had the feeling that Alex didn’t need to worry about a gun.

The Russian Mafia Boss’s  _ daughter  _ was coming to her house, all because Sara was often in the wrong place at the wrong time. She was stressing out about this more than she had ever stressed out about anything before in her life, and she couldn’t even tell her friends why her hands shook during random moments in the day when her thoughts overwhelmed her. All she could do was go to Hayden and use the generic excuse of “school” to get a little help with calming down. Sara was not good at talking herself down from things, and Hayden couldn’t do it for her because she didn’t know what to talk her down from.

Sara’s hair was falling out. Probably.

She was careful to grab one of her father’s stiletto blade switch knives from his bedside nightstand drawer and tuck it into her jacket long before Alex showed up. With a gun, somebody would mostly likely get hurt, and it would most likely be Sara. But with a knife, Sara at least had a chance. She had learned how to fight with a knife when she was young. Her father was an officer with the Chicago Police Department; he wanted to keep them protected. Sara knew how to use a knife.

But Alex was probably better.

Sara tried not to let her hands shake as she waved goodbye to her family. She was tempted to lock the doors like usual, to prevent bad people from coming in, but that was kind of pointless, now. The most dangerous person she could think of was undoubtedly coming to her house, and there was no way she could stop it. Locked doors and windows wouldn’t keep Alex out for long.

Sara sat down in the middle of her living room floor, lights off, natural light spilling in from the open blinds in the windows. She pulled her jacket tighter around her—a pink bomber jacket; her absolute favorite. To think that it could have bloodstains on it by the end of the night, if things went wrong, terrified her.  _ The red would go well with the pink _ , Sara thought cynically.

The mortality of the situation hit Sara like a bus, in that moment. There was no guarantee that Sara would get out of this moment unscathed. She was sure Alex knew how to inflict injury without it being visible; and Sara knew how to hide it.

Her hands were shaking again. She felt for the handle of the blade on the inside pocket of her jacket. It was solid against her fingertips, grounding her as much as wood and metal could.

Sara closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

_ In _ , _ out _ .

Her left hand stopped shaking, if only momentarily.

_ In _ ,  _ out _ .

She felt her hair brush her knees, which were tucked to her chest.

_ In _ ,  _ out _ .

She heard the knob of the front door jiggle, and the door open and close. Her hand started shaking again.

_ In _ ,  _ out _ .

Footsteps, too quiet to be accidental but loud enough to be deliberate, walked through the kitchen, sound changing from feet on tile to feet on carpet as they entered the living room.

_ In _ ,  _ out _ .

The couch puffed the way it does when a body falls onto it.

_ In _ ,  _ out _ .

Sara opened her eyes. Alex Barnes was sitting on her couch, legs crossed at the knee and arm hanging along the back edge, somehow polite and dominant at the same time. It made Sara want to run as far away as she could, with that malicious glint in her icy eyes, but it made her want to kneel at Alex’s feet and present her bare, upturned wrists above her ducked head as well.

_ In _ ,  _ out _ .

“Nice place,” Alex said, forcing Sara’s eye contact. It was harsh, violent even, and Sara couldn’t look away. “You’ve got it made, huh?” She flicked a wrist, gesturing around the room, tendons in her forearm twisting under golden skin with the motion. “Your dad’s a cop, your mom’s a marketer for some big time corporation, your sister a prestigious little soccer player; the perfect family.”

Sara’s breath quickened. She hated the look on Alex’s face. It wasn’t smug, it wasn’t arrogant—it was a mix of ‘I know everything about you’ and ‘I know I’m invincible’. She wanted to slap it off of her face. But physical violence wouldn’t bode well here. She needed to use words.

“My dad hits me.”

Sara wanted to tug the words back in the second the fell off of her tongue. She had never told anyone that before, not even Hayden. Why would she tell Alex—the least trustworthy person and greatest threat to Sara in the world right now?

But it probably didn’t matter. She would guess that Alex already knew.

Alex gave her an inquisitive look. “Do you expect my pity?” She shifted, and Sara saw a flash of silver pressed against her side under her leather jacket. A knife. Sara wasn’t the only one who’d prepared. “You quiver like a lamb yet grenades fall from your tongue.”

Sara didn’t know what to say to that. Alex hadn’t flinched, even when Sara had dropped a metaphorical bomb on her. She had shown weakness, now she was going to force some from Alex. “How are your ribs?” Sara asked, going for polite with an undertone of poison. She hoped she’d achieved it. She probably hadn’t. She wanted to replace her momentary lapse in her defenses with one in Alex’s. Show her that she knew Alex wasn’t a god. That she could bleed.

Alex smiled. Toxic. Archaic. “I see what you’re doing, little lamb. You can’t break me. Many have tried, all have failed.  _ Inexecutable _ , is what I am.” Alex’s word choice was precise. Sara tried not to let it be seen how she shook, but Alex had already noticed.

Sara closed her eyes again.  _ In _ ,  _ out _ . Opened them.

“You’re scared of me,” Alex observed. Sara flinched, minutely. “Good. You should be.” Alex ran the back of her nails across her front teeth. Sara’s eyes followed as if in a trance, and Alex watched. Sara hated that she couldn’t bring herself to look away. The second indicator of humanity that she had seen. “You see me as a god,” Alex continued. It was if she was looking into Sara’s mind, calmly, lazily, and picking out the specific thoughts that Sara tried to bury. “But part of you want to see me as human, too.”

And God, yes, Sara wanted Alex to be human. She wanted her to have quirks, and make mistakes, and stutter when she spoke, even. She wanted those fingers to link with her’s, to run through her hair, to drag along her lips. She wanted a human version of Alex, all to herself.

“You’re terrified,” Alex said. Sara’s knuckles were white from where they were gripping each other around her legs. “And you’re intrigued. You had a little taste and keep wanting to come back for more.” Alex’s eyes wandered over Sara; scrutinizing. She slid to the floor, closer to Sara, folding her legs beneath her. Graceful. Vulnerable. Putting her and Sara on an equal level.

The sun was sliding below the horizon outside, casting shadows across the living room, sending and orange splash through the glass. Alex’s hair looked like fire. Her eyes looked translucent.

“But you have another need, deeper, don’t you?” Somehow, even at the same level, Alex still towered over her. “You play it off as unimportant, but you need to submit. You need to have someone else take control, because your brain’s too loud and you can’t quiet it yourself.”

Exactly. Precisely. Unequivocally. Hayden was an ample muffler now, but she wouldn’t last forever. She was growing and learning, just like Sara. Sara needed someone steadfast, unfaltering, untiring. Undaunted by life. Someone like Alex.

But Alex was dangerous. Sara could get killed. There were other people like her in the world, steady and strong and ready for any challenge. Alex wasn’t one of a kind.

“You know I’m what you need, don’t you?” Alex leaned forward. They were still feet apart, but Sara felt Alex’s eyes piercing her. “You know no one could work you over like I could. But you’re scared. So you lie to yourself, try to convince yourself you could find someone else. But you can’t. There’s no one like me, doll.”

Sara felt tears pushing at the corners of her eyes. She was being offered the proverbial world, but this proverbial world could get her hurt, or even killed. With someone she didn’t trust in the least.

Although a tiny part of Sara’s brain was screaming at her:  _ This is a trap. You don’t need her. You’ll find someone better. _ But what was so bad about trying? Well, death, for one thing. Sara could end up dead. She knew who Alex was; what she did. It wasn’t a safe place, especially not for Sara. She wanted to give in _ so bad _ .

“I can’t offer you a trial period,” Alex spoke suddenly, softly, shocking Sara from her reverie. “With me, it’s all or nothing. I could give you the world.” It was like someone was offering her water after she had been stranded in the desert for forty years.

Sara closed her eyes.  _ In _ ,  _ out _ . Opened them. Alex was staring at her, like an indifferent cat would to an amusing mouse. “I…” Sara started. Trailed off. She couldn’t answer this now.

“Think about it,” Alex supplied. “No deadline. No threat. You’re safe as long as you’re contemplating my offer. Once I have my answer, yes or no…then your safety will depend. On you.” Alex stood, a mountain lion over a fresh kill, and moved toward the widow. It opened with ease under her dexterous hands, seemingly on its own. “And Sara?” she addressed, and Sara’s head snapped up. Alex was crouched with one foot on the windowsill, the other dangling, and resting on the bottom frame of the open window. Her eyes were bright in the setting sunlight. “Gods were people once, too.”

And with that, she was gone. She left the window open behind her, curtains flowing with the slight breeze. Sara shivered. She lifted her hands. They were trembling. An offer.

Sara didn’t know what would happen if she said yes. She didn’t know what would happen if she said no. She didn’t know if Alex’s initial threat, the one from the bathroom that first time, still stood, with her newfound promise of safety. At least Sara hadn’t been gutted.

Sara stood, legs wobbling. Unexpected tears pushed at the corners of her eyes. The quiet was too loud, the colors around her too harsh. Her clothes against her skin too rough. She grabbed her cellphone from where it was charging on the kitchen counter. She thanked the heavens for the thumbprint scanner—her hands were too shaky to type much right now. She managed to tap out a message to Hayden:  _ sos _ . Sara sunk into one of the barstools conveniently beside her, phone clunking as it dropped back down to the counter.

Sara flinched, put her head in her hands. It was too loud. Everything was too much. She didn’t know how how long she sat there before there were soft, familiar hands pushing her hair back from her face. Hayden ducked her head, trying to see Sara’s face.

“Oh,” she murmured quietly, and it sounded more like  _ oh no _ . “C’mon.” Soft hands persuaded Sara to stand. “Let’s get you to your room.” Hayden led her up the stairs, sitting her gently on her bed and shutting her bedroom door. She knelt in front of Sara, hands on the sides of her neck, and that was wrong, it was wrong, Hayden wasn’t supposed to be below her.

Hayden examined her face, thumbs tracing across her cheekbones. “Disassociating,” she whispered, mostly to herself, “pretty bad crash.” To Sara, she said, “What happened?” Gently, of course. Sara couldn’t handle much more than that right now. But the question incited confusion and a smidge of panic in Sara. She shook her head.

“Okay, you don’t have to.” Hayden’s voice was low. The  _ yet  _ was unspoken, but still heard. “What do you need?”

Sara’s eyes fluttered, a single tear slipping from her left eye. “T—too much. Please.”

“Shh,” Hayden murmured over Sara’s quiet whimpers of overstimulation. “It’s okay. I’m gonna make it better, alright?” Sara nodded, too fast, too many times. Hayden helped her out of her clothes, into the silk night robe that wouldn’t bother her tingling skin. Sara whined as lightning bolts shot through her fingertips, trapped under her skin. In her bones. No escape.

Hayden shushed her again, smoothing both hands over her hair. “Okay, okay, it’s okay.” Her voice was steady, unwavering. Soothing. Sara latched onto it. “What do you need?”

Sara whimpered again. “Please—I can’t—I need—” Hayden nodded like she understood.

“You’re spiralling,” she said. She moved her hands over Sara’s ears so everything was muffled, but Hayden’s voice was still clear. “I got you. I’m gonna make it better.”

Hayden climbed onto Sara’s bed, pulling Sara into her lap and pressing Sara’s head to her chest. She put a hand over Sara’s ear, blocking out all the white noise in the house. Sara closed her eyes, eyelashes brushing the tops of her cheeks as Hayden brought her other hand over Sara’s eyes. Sara could see galaxies on the backs of her eyelids with how hard she was squeezing them closed. Sara let out a breath that she didn’t know she was holding, and leaned heavily into Hayden’s warmth.

Sara must have fallen asleep that way, because she dreamt of school, the lockers and the wide hallways and the closed classroom doors. She saw Minerva through a window and Roman around a corner. She followed a shadow of Adam into a school bathroom, but the bathroom had turned into one of the bathrooms from  _ Harry Potter _ —she couldn’t pinpoint which one, because it switched every time she blinked. (Maybe she shouldn’t have re-watched it last weekend.)

The false wall of the bathroom dissolved, turning into a narrow hallway, walls and floor made completely of red brick. There were menacing medieval-looking doors interspaced along the walls. It was only lit by creepy chandeliers made only of leather straps and heavy iron.

Sara stepped toward it, and the scene changed again. She was in her room, but all the colors were inverted. The white walls were black, the white dresser was black, all her plants were dead and wilted, and the mirror reflected darkness instead of light. Sara turned, looking toward her door, but in its place was another mirror. She tried to look out one of her windows, but the curtains wouldn’t move off of the window. The paints sitting on her art bureau weren’t paints anymore; they were colorful collections of straws, holding themselves together upright without anything binding them together.

Sara reached out to touch one of them but they moved away from her fingertips. She tried to open the drawers, but they closed without ever being opened, like a computer glitch. She tried to kick her rug, but the same thing happened. On a whim, Sara walked over to the mirror in place of her door, took a deep breath, and stepped through.

It rippled like water around her and she was in Minerva’s room, books and plants and pens scattered on every available and unavailable surface. There were floating shapes above the stereo on the shelf, and the two plants in glass pots on her bed were floating above the quilt. Out the windows it was only white. Sara sat down on the bed, pulling the familiar-smelling blanket around her shoulders and nudging the floating plants away in the process. They fell and floated happily above the floor, seemingly incandescent against the dark carpet.

Sara closed her eyes, light emitting from nowhere specific in the room seeping through her eyelids. Suddenly the radio started playing, no music that Minerva would ever listen to. It sounded old, like something her parents would have listened to instead. It wasn’t soothing; it was annoying, like all old people music was.

Sara woke up, on her bed, alone. Her closet light was on, but it was otherwise dark in the room. She could hear voices and music playing downstairs, and she rolled out of bed, pulling her comforter around her like a burrito. She was still wearing the silk robe she had on earlier, but now her favorite pair of fuzzy socks were on her feet, too.

She padded down the stairs, wondering if Hayden was still here. She knew her family was home, because no one else would play that wretched music. Sara turned into the kitchen, where her mother was making what looked like nachos, and her father, sister, and Hayden were sitting on the barstools at the counter. Sara came up beside Hayden, who was sitting on the outside stool. The air was light and happy, and Sara leaned her hip against Hayden’s.

Margaret set the nachos on the counter, smiling at Sara and leaning over to kiss the side of her head. Harley knocked her knuckles against Sara’s shoulder, and her father didn’t even acknowledge her. Hayden, who was like another one of Margaret and David’s kids, subtly wrapped an arm around Sara’s waist.

“Hey,” she greeted, the first verbal greeting Sara got. “Your parents agreed to let me stay over, like we planned to ask before you fell asleep.” She smiled, a smile that meant ‘play along’, and Sara nodded acceptingly. They had never made plans for Hayden to stay over, but Sara was glad she was. She wasn’t entirely clear on what happened, but she knew it would be easiest if Hayden stayed with her to help her work through it.

Harley took a nacho, shoving it in her mouth and talking immediately after. “Don’t be too loud doing your animal sacrifices,” she teased. “I’m exhausted and I need my beauty sleep.”

“Harley,” David said sharply, probably for the animal sacrificing thing.

“Sorry,” Harley replied, only sounding sorry because she didn’t want David to lecture her again. He was big on lectures. And occasionally hitting Sara. Sara didn’t know if he hit her mother or her sister. He was quiet about it, and if he did, they would know how to hide it, too. Her family wasn’t big on communication. (But it wasn’t like Sara could defend herself. She was the only Sub in the family besides her mother, and it wasn’t like Margaret could speak out against her Dominant. He just beat Sara because she couldn’t say no.)

“C’mon,” Hayden said, sliding off of the stool. “Let’s go upstairs and we can do each other’s nails.” Sara had to repress a snicker, because she knew Hayden picked that activity in particular because everybody else in Sara’s family despised it, and they wouldn’t interrupt.

Hayden held onto the comforter above Sara’s bicep as they climbed the stairs in tandem. Hayden closed Sara’s door behind them, locking it. She sat Sara down on the bed, reminiscent of earlier that night. Then she turned on Sara’s radio, in case anyone came up and tried to listen in.

She did actually grab the nail polish off of Sara’s desk and dig one of Sara’s hands out from under the comforter. Seeing the chipped and cracked purple nail polish that was currently trying its hardest to separate itself from Sara’s nails, Hayden made a disgusted noise and dug through one of Sara’s dresser drawers, finding nail polish remover and cotton balls.

Hayden set to work removing Sara’s old nail polish silently, while Sara watched, almost in a trance. It was so normal compared to the unconventional day she’d had. She’d been threatened by the daughter of the Russian Mafia boss. She’d been propositioned by the daughter of the Russian Mafia boss. She’d crashed so hard she fell asleep, which almost never happened. She didn’t know how long she’d been out, and she kind of didn’t want to know.

“So,” Hayden started conversationally, but Sara knew it wasn’t going to be as light as the atmosphere in the kitchen had been. Sara curled her knees to her chest, still allowing Hayden to grasp her wrist gently and drag the small, cold brush along her nails. “Are you gonna tell me what caused that drop earlier? Because I know you’ve been holding something back for weeks. If you don’t want to tell me, I’m not going to force you, but I can’t help you if I don’t know what I’m helping you through.”

Sara sighed, ducked her head and nudged her nose between her knees, and looked up at Hayden through her eyelashes. The smaller she made herself, the smaller the surface area of the impact. “I can’t tell you,” she tried. She knew she would break, but it wasn’t going to be this second. Not when Hayden held her wrist so kindly, and was so focused on making the edges of the nail polish just right. It made Sara’s fingers feel lighter, and kind of tingly, like new nail polish always did.

“I can see what you’re doing,” Hayden said flippantly. Sara knew she was anything but flippant on the subject. “You don’t want to tell me, but you want me to know. You know it’s in your best interest to tell someone, so you don’t have to carry the weight of whatever this thing is on your shoulder alone. But there’ll be consequences if you tell someone, right? I know that look. You’re afraid.”

Sara’s eyes were watering, because Hayden was always so good at reading her. Accurate and invasive, but sometimes invited. Hayden was wise beyond her years, and probably psychic, too. That part of her came out in times of great stress, like finals or Minerva’s ballet recitals, or when Sara came out to her. And it was coming out now, which meant this was a time of great stress, and Sara was probably screwed.

“You can’t tell anyone,” Sara said, voice vehement and tone acute. It was crucial that Hayden didn’t tell anyone, but Sara trusted her with this, which meant Sara trusted her not to tell. But, she insisted. “Promise me; promise me you won’t tell anyone. I’m serious. You can’t.”

“I won’t,” Hayden confirmed, gravely sincere. “You can tell me anything. You know that. I’d never tell your secrets.”

And yet, Sara hesitated. The lives of the people closest to her were at risk here, and she wouldn’t put their lives at stake. But this was so  _ huge _ , she couldn’t just deal with it herself. And Alex had no way of knowing what she said in the privacy of her own room, right? Alex had never been in her room. She couldn’t like, drop any bugs or anything in a place she’s never been, right? Alex wasn’t a magician, and she wasn’t one of a kind.

“You… you know that new girl?” she started, offering her other hand when Hayden finished the hand she was on.

“The blonde one?” Hayden confirmed, flipping her short white hair over her shoulder and out of her face.

“Yeah, that one,” Sara confirmed, nodding her head a little. “She’s not who you think she is. She’s dangerous. And for some reason, I kept happening to be in the wrong place at the wrong time, and now a lot of things’ve happened, and I’m completely and totally screwed.”

Hayden was quiet, focusing on Sara’s nails. “That,” she said, “was entirely too vague to decipher. I can tell you don’t want to, but you’re gonna have to go into more detail.” She squeezed Sara’s wrist comfortingly, and her head twitched like it did when she got an idea and wanted to jerk her head up, but halted the movement.

“How about this?” Hayden propositioned, gently and kindly and non-threateningly. “I’ll ask specific questions, so you don’t give away any information that you’re not comfortable sharing, and I learn what I need to know. Yeah?”

Sara nodded, licking her lips nervously.

“Okay,” Hayden confirmed. “First question. Who is the new girl, really?”

“She… is the daughter… of the man who runs… the Russian Mafia,” Sara said quietly, ducking her head farther into her knees.

Hayden, for her part, showed no reaction to the news. She listened, processed, and asked, “What do you mean, ‘you were in the wrong place at the wrong time’?” She finished Sara’s nails, and blew on them to help them dry faster.

“I… overheard things. Illegal things that got me threatened.”

Hayden nodded. She’d always been quick. “Alright. I’m not gonna know what those threats were, am I?”

Sara nodded.

“Alright. I’m okay with that,” Hayden answered, forever rational and level-headed. “You’re allowed to have your secrets.”

If it had been any other time, that would have gotten Sara riled up. Sophomore year, after they had been designated as either Dominant or Submissive, everyone had had to take a Orientation Etiquette class. In the version Sara got, the one for Submissives, one of the archaic dynamic behaviors had been the Submissives not having secrets of their own, and telling their Dominants everything. If Sara ever were to be married or contracted, she would be societally required to tell her Dominant every little detail. Things like that made her angry, but now was not the time to rant about it for three hours. (Again.)

The mood in the room was still dark, and Hayden let her have a couple minutes before she asked her next question. Sara was grateful; it gave her a chance to breathe and think through the situation. Hayden asked, “What things have happened?”

Sara let Hayden continue holding her wrist, even though her nails were dry now. “She came to my house,” she said, blatant. “She threatened me again, and then she propositioned me. She read me easier than you do, Hayden; it was terrifying. I was frozen, and she offered to take me up higher than anyone else ever could. Or so she claimed. I don’t know. I’m not sure about anything right now.”

A stray tear ran down Sara’s cheek inexplicably, and Hayden reached out to brush it aside. Sara didn’t flinch away. Her trust in Hayden was total and unbreakable.

“And then?” Hayden asked, gently, almost unheard over the radio.

“Then she disappeared.” Sara shrugged.

Hayden pulled herself closer, plastering herself to Sara’s side comfortingly. “Last question,” she said. “How are you completely and totally screwed?”

“The entire situation,” Sara exclaimed quietly. “She said if I told anyone, bad things would happen. If I accept her proposition, I and everyone else would be safe, but at the same time I’d be in exponential danger, because of who she is. I don’t know what to do.”

“Well,” Hayden said, “I’m going to be completely honest. I’m completely freaking out right now, and I wholly think you should tell the police, or even you dad—”

“You can’t tell anyone!” Sara interrupted.

“And I’m not going to,” Hayden confirmed. “I know. I’m not stupid.”

Sara released a sigh. “I don’t know what to do.”

“Neither do I,” Hayden said. “But let’s do this. We’re not going to deal with it right now. We’re going to watch Netflix on your laptop and I’m gonna hold you and we’ll sleep until morning, then we’ll get up and go to school tomorrow and you won’t interact with her at all. You think about it when you can, but you focus on your school work, too. And then we deal with this this weekend, when your homework is done and we have the time. Until then, you’re going to put this out of your mind, and sleep. Okay?”

Sara breathed out. Heavily. “Okay,” she nodded. She could follow that schedule. She wanted to follow that schedule. And she didn’t want to be alone right now.

Hayden stood, grabbed Sara’s laptop off her desk, and came back immediately. Sara wiggled out of the comforter and spread it out over the bed, and Hayden stepped over her, against the wall and the window, and slid under the comforter next to her. Sara didn’t like the window right next to her bed at night. It was nice during the day, when it was bright and not-creepy outside.

Sara tucked herself under Hayden’s arm, nosing into her collarbone and stealing her warmth. Hayden flipped open the MacBook and opened a new page on the browser, ignoring all the tabs Sara had open for homework. Once on Netflix, she picked  _ Parks and Recreation _ , a gentle comedy that Sara could fall asleep to and wouldn’t freak her out. (She hated horror movies, unsurprisingly.)

Sara fell asleep on the second episode, wrapped in Hayden’s warmth and the warmth of her comforter. She didn’t dream.


	9. chaper 8

“You fucker,” Alex said as she slid in the passenger seat of  _ her  _ Camaro. She slammed her door behind her. “Turn this shit off.”

James protested but complied, switching off the obnoxious pop music he had been playing. He switched it to the heavy, loud, Bulgarian rap that Alex liked, even though she didn’t know Bulgarian, or even Bulgarian Cyrillic.

For a while, Alex had refused to learn any language that didn’t start with ‘R’, so for the first six years of her life, she only spoke Russian and Romanian. Then she had branched out into Latin, then, begrudgingly, Spanish, then finally, English. (Alex hadn’t learned English until she was eight and she still spoke it better than James.)

James sped off the block, driving way too fast for a residential unit. But who actually cared—her car was silent. Nikolay had done some upgrades, for stealth purposes.

“And?” James asked, sounding as if they had been having a conversation and Alex had left a sentence open ended. But Alex knew James’s speech patterns.

“I offered. She panicked. I left. The end.” Conciseness was her ally in all matters.

“Did you speak Ye Old English?” James asked, speeding around a corner. The car nearly went up on two wheels.

“Do I ever speak anything else?” Alex asked bluntly.

James didn’t answer. Instead, Alex said, “Pull over,” and they switched seats. Alex gripped the steering wheel ostentatiously, and they peeled off the side of the road. She was happy to be driving again.

James said, “You speak asshole very well.”

Alex laughed, a wild, reckless thing, and rolled down the window and turned up the music. The wind whipped her hair around her face but she didn’t care. The night was dark and looming, and James sped back to the Mansion. It should have taken an hour. It took twenty minutes.

Her father was waiting for her when they pulled up the drive, arms crossed. He probably knew what she had done by now, and was probably going to lecture her.

Alex jumped out of the car, slamming the door. She stopped in front of her father momentarily, and said. “Write me up. I’m not in the mood to talk.” And as an afterthought, “Sir.” Then she stepped respectfully around her father, and she could hear James exchanging words with Joshua politely before he followed her.

Alex stomped her way up to her room and pushed the door open, tossing her keys on top of her bookshelf before flopping down onto her bed. James came in a moment later, slamming the door behind him in the way Alex liked. He started to fall on top of Alex but thought better of it, and flipped to the side at the last second. Alex smirked.

“You know you’re going to have to deal with this at some point.” It wasn’t a question, it was a statement, and James really had to have some guts to tell her that. Alex punched him in the arm, not gentle by any means. James decidedly didn’t flinch and stubbornly didn’t rub his arm.

“Get my fucking laptop,” Alex said, gesturing lazily with an arm. James complied because he knew Alex could and would beat him up, and they settled together on the bed like civilized people and watched the most violent movie they could find.

**“I love you,” James said, interrupting one of the characters. It was out of place and impudent, and Alex punched him in the arm again, but this time it meant _I love you, too_. There was probably a _fucker_ after that, but it was the sentiment that counted. **


	10. chapter 9

Sara woke up warm and happy, like she’d had good dreams, although she didn’t remember dreaming at all. Hayden was wrapped around her like a koala, encompassing all of Sara’s senses.

Sara looked over at her alarm and wasn’t so happy anymore, because it was going to go off in two minutes, which meant she had school, which meant she had to see people and do homework and see  _ Alex _ . But she wasn’t allowed to think about it.

Sara flailed out an arm so she could switch off the alarm before it started beeping obnoxiously, so it wouldn’t wake up Hayden. Instead, she rolled closer to Hayden, snuffling into her neck and trying to wake her up that way. (Unfortunately for Sara, when she was up, she was up, so this was really all she had to do this morning.) Next, she untangled herself from Hayden’s limbs and sat on top of her, slowly pulling open her curtains to let the soft sunlight in.

Hayden scrunched up her face and grunted, completely unattractive and entirely amusing. She waved a hand like she could push the sunlight away. Sara rocked her hips, pushing Hayden into the bed, which was something that she knew annoyed her this early in the morning. She groaned again and rolled, forcing Sara to slide off of her so she wouldn’t fall off the bed.

“I’m up,” Hayden complained, standing beside the bed. Sara followed and reached around her to pull open one of her dresser drawers that had jeans in it. “Thanks,” Hayden said, because Sara always let her friends wear her clothes if they slept over unexpectedly. They pulled some out of the drawer and slithered into them simultaneously, because they had done this a million times before.

They both dug through the shirts Sara had hanging until they found something acceptable. For Hayden it was a plain black v-neck, and for Sara it was a blue flowy tank top and a gray cardigan.

Hayden said, “My backpack’s in my car. I’m driving us to school,” and Sara didn’t argue because she really wasn’t in the mood to ride the bus. She didn’t have a car (because, legally, as a Submissive, she couldn’t get her license until she was eighteen.) (Which was stupid and antiquated and archaic because—) (That’s not what she’s doing right now.) and not many of her Dom friends lived close enough to her to take her to school.

Hayden closed Sara’s bedroom door behind them when they left, heading downstairs for breakfast. Breakfast was a Thing in the Queen family, just like dinner. They all sat down around the dining room table and made polite conversation until David dismissed them. (Because he was the Head of House so he go to make all the rules, stupid, antiquated, archaic.)

And since Hayden was here, it was even more of a Thing, because she was like family and “Oh, we haven’t seen you in forever!” and “How is school going?” and “You know, I’m not usually one for strange hair colors, but yours really seems to fit you!” It was exhausting.

And Sara, being the Sub that  _ wasn’t properly trained _ (even though she had taken the class, her father didn’t accept it), Did Not Speak Until Spoken To, and Answered Politely At All Times during Proper Table Conversation. And It Was Exhausting.

Thankfully, on this day that Sara didn’t want to deal with anyone or anything, Hayden was there to save her from Proper Table Conversation. Instead of letting Sara answer questions that were directly aimed at her, Hayden answered them for her, accurately and honestly and just how David liked.

And they were off with Harley in the back seat, so she didn’t have to ride the bus either. Even though they only lived ten minutes away from the school by car, it took forty-five minutes to get there by bus, because they bus had to pick up everyone in the neighborhood. Hayden’s music was playing quietly during the drive, something soft with meaningful lyrics that Sara could barely hear over the roar of the engine.

Harley walked away without a goodbye the second they were inside the school doors, but Sara couldn’t bring herself to be bothered by it. That was just how Harley was, and they had different friend groups.

Given, Sara did have a very unique friend group. Most of the time, Doms hang with Doms and Subs hang with Subs, and the baseline kids were scattered through all over. But Sara has had the same friends since kindergarten—before they knew their orientations. After, they had just stuck together, because they didn’t know how to do anything else.

Sara and Hayden met up with the rest of them at the far end of the hallway, by Sara’s locker. Conveniently, Sara grabbed her books as she stood by her friends, getting squeezed hands and bumped shoulders. Blue gave her a hug, which was unexpected but appreciated. Sara leaned into it, ignoring the harmless possessive looks Adam was shooting them. It was more funny than anything. Roman, also unexpectedly, gave Sara his jacket, because she looked ‘cold’, and Sara shot an accusative look to Hayden.

Hayden raised her hands in innocently: She hadn’t told anyone anything. Maybe their squad was more in tune with each other than Sara realized. Nonetheless, she buried her nose in the fluffy insides of the jacket, and gave Roman’s hand an affectionate squeeze.

Minerva, for her part, just offered up an unabashed, “I love you,” which was entirely within the realm of Things Minerva Did Often. She didn’t disguise her words, because it took too much time to get her correct point across. So she just forewent it all together.

Sara smiled and squeezed her hand too, because she was in the middle of reading one of the books for their English class to get ahead, and Sara didn’t want to interrupt her.

The warning bell rang, and they all headed off to their classes. Hayden took Sara’s hand as they walked down the hallway, and Sara pulled her free hand up into the sleeve of Roman’s jacket. Sara silently named the people she knew as they went, because it was a kind of long walk and it was something mindless to do. Sara was fairly popular, and she knew a lot of names.

Sara focused during school, just like Hayden had told her to the night before. She threw herself into her work on almost the same level as Minerva, who was a work-o-holic. She didn’t let herself drift off in thought, not even in Study Hall. She knew Hayden could tell she didn’t want to think, so Hayden gave her busywork to do—Sudoku and puzzles that required a lot of brainpower and things like that. Hayden also didn’t let Sara leave her sight for more than an hour, and when they didn’t have classes together, she made sure one of their friends practically stayed plastered to Sara’s side at all times.

It was easy enough to make it to the end of the day that way. Every chance she got, Hayden clapped a hand on the back of Sara’s neck and pulled her into hugs and kisses. It was sweet, it was distracting, and Sara didn’t even notice that Alex wasn’t there.


	11. chapter 10

“Fuck off,” Alex groaned, rolling over and throwing her arm over her eyes. She hadn’t bothered to close her curtains and the morning sunlight was bright, falling directly on her face.

Someone pulled her blankets off, and Alex relented, sitting up and blinking blearily. James was standing at the side of her bed, looking exhausted and annoyed but wearing a three piece suit. Alex groaned, because James dressed nice meant she had to do work.

“Get up,” James said. “You have an assignment, and your father took your advice and wrote you up, so you have to debrief on that, and Henry’s going to bring home all of your homework today because you’re missing school. So get dressed, look presentable, and meet me downstairs in twenty minutes. I have to go help Nikolay clean up a mess Vadim made.”

Alex stared at him as he spoke, only slightly uncomprehending because of how early it was. Regardless, when James left and closed the door behind him, Alex slid out of bed and walked over to her closet so she could get dressed. ‘Presentable’ meant a pair of dark jeans and a black tank top, but she threw a charcoal blazer over it just in case. As always, her little spider necklace hung down between her collarbones. In the bathroom, she straightened her hair and pinned it up against her head, more for function than style. Mission meant running, and running meant her hair got in the way. As an afterthought, she changed out her bra for a sports bra, and she pulled on her combat boots.

Alex stopped in the kitchen on the way down and grabbed a protein shake. They were disgusting, but she was going to need the energy. The only way to get to her father’s office was to go outside and around the big dividing/privacy wall that Joshua had built. Then there was a hexagonal room with yellow striped walls and only one door and one staircase. The staircase led down into a narrow red brick hallway, where their holding cells were. All the doors had lion head knockers on them, except the one to her father’s office. It had some kind of mean-looking jester, and Alex pushed through it without knocking.

Through that door was another hallway, with more yellow stripes. Only this one had three red chairs lined along the walls that were usually empty, but now held Vadim and another man that Alex didn’t recognize. She sat down in the third chair, not acknowledging any of the men. Because they were lower rank than her, they weren’t allowed to acknowledge her first, so Alex sat in silence until the door was opened for her.

She didn’t have to wait long, because she was third in command and both she and her father always had a lot to do. Some goon opened the heavy wooden door and met her eyes, and she stood. Nikolay was on an assignment with James, so Joshua must have had to find someone else to fill his job. Her father’s office had a lot of dark wood, leather, and red walls. The desk that was normally bare and organized had papers scattered over it, and probably twenty books were open, resting on any available surface in the room. Hopefully that wasn’t because of her. Probably some it was, but some of it may have been for Vadim, too.

“You have a lot of work to do,” Joshua greeted from the chair behind his desk, bent over a book with a paper in it that he was scribbling on in Russian. His accent was heavy, which meant he had already done a lot of work today. Alex sat in one of the chairs on the other side of his desk, and didn’t say anything.

Joshua stood, and pulled yet another file off of a bookshelf. “Matthew Smith,” he said, tossing the file to Alex. She caught it and opened it, reading while Joshua spoke. “Wanted for the murder of three of our guys; not in an official capacity, of course. Yesterday, he burnt down one of our buildings. Only three did not make it out. We cannot let something like this go without retaliation. He will be at Second Avenue and Neil Street in half an hour. Your allotted time is an hour and a half, for travel, execution, and disposal. Get going.”

Alex stood and nodded, leaving with a respectful, “Sir.” The goon closed the door behind her. She made her way back up to the house, running up to her room to change into her tac suit. She didn’t see James on her way out, which meant he and Nikolay must have already left. And the suit James was wearing meant he was on damage control, which was never fun.

Alex went to the locked room in the back of the house, where they kept a fraction of their ammunitions. Most of them were in the basement, but Alex kept hers up here, because she hated the basement. She grabbed one of the duffels from the chest beside the door and turned to stand in front of the locked cabinet where she kept her sniper rifle. The cabinets could only be opened with biometrics, for safety. She scanned her handprint and retina, then carefully placed her disassembled gun and ammunition in the padded duffel.

The garage was off of the back of the house, big enough to hold six cars. Two of them were Alex’s, two of them were Joshua’s, and the other two were for anybody’s use. Alex took her Camaro, mostly because it was faster than her Wrangler. The Wrangler was for off-road missions. Tossing the duffel in the back, she slid into the driver’s seat, happy to be behind the wheel of her car again.

The garage door opened slowly, too slowly for her liking, and the second it was opened far enough, Alex peeled out of the garage, leaving more tire marks to match the ones that were already there. It took fifteen minutes to get to the location, and about ten minutes to set up. There was a possibility that it would take about five minutes to find an ample rooftop vantage point. Thirty minutes really wasn’t a lot of time, and her father probably did that too her because he was bitter about yesterday.

Alex pushed the car over one hundred down the country roads that lead away from the Mansion. She slowed down to seventy on a more popular highway, still speeding but not as bad. On the city roads, she slowed all the way down to fifty, which was like a crawling speed, even though the speed limit was thirty. Instead of looking at the roads and the traffic, Alex was looking up at the buildings. She saw a financial firm that was tall, but it was hidden between two taller buildings. Good vantage point, protection, and easy escape.

Alex pulled up in front of the building, parking and pulling her duffel to her side and slipping into the alley before anyone could see her. She climbed the fire escape to the roof, hiding behind the large air conditioners just to be safe. She made her way to the far side of the building, where she would have the best vantage point.

Kneeling, she pulled her disassembled gun out of her bag and assembled it in five seconds flat, a thing she’d been able to do since she was eight. She loaded it, and flipped out the kickstand, setting it on the short wall at the edge of the building. She looked through the scope, focusing on the specific sidewalk block where the target was supposed to be in exactly four minutes and thirty six seconds. Now it was a waiting game. Targets weren’t always on time.

And neither was Matthew Smith. He was twenty-four seconds behind schedule. Alex adjusted for the time difference, the distance, Smith’s walking speed, the displacement, the altitude, the wind speed, the velocity of the bullet, the civilians, the humidity in the air, the goddamn dips in the pavement—everything. It was a lot more than just pulling a trigger.

Alex centered the scope on Smith’s head. She drew in a breath, moving slowly along with Smith. Counting down in her head, she let out her breath, and pulled the trigger.

There was only a small pop when the bullet left the muzzle of the gun. A silencer was necessary in the city. Alex saw the bullet impact directly above Smith’s ear, between two other civilians. Screams rang out among the crowd, and Alex had pulled back began disassembling her gun before she could see Smith drop. In forty seconds, she was back down the fire escape and slipping into her car unnoticed and pulling away.


	12. chapter 11

It was the weekend, and Sara was thinking about Alex’s offer. She had been for the last day. Hayden wasn’t right next to her for once, so Sara took advantage of that, curling up on her bed with her headphones in. She was listening to her music loudly, because that, for some reason, made it easier for her to think. Troye Sivan and Alessia Cara were singing about the wildness of youth, and Sara had her knees curled to her chest, back against the wall, staring out the window.

Her comforter was soft under her bare feet and she fleetingly thought that it might have been a good idea to talk about this with Hayden, but the last time Hayden was over, all she did was make sure Sara finished all her homework then leave to go have dinner with her family, and Sara was a little bitter about that. (Not that she had any reason to be, she was just emotional right now.) Sara could see Harley kicking around a soccer ball in the back yard.

Her mother was at work and her father had the day off, but he was watching football in the living room, the last time Sara checked, so she had free reign over the second floor. Not like she was going to leave her room, but it was a nice thought.

Sara looked longingly over at her easel in front of her window, and desperately wished she had some inspiration right now. Even her laptop was mocking her from her desk, with unanswered emails and things she could have studied, even though she didn’t need to.

Sara didn’t hear her father calling her name, or the angry, heavy footsteps up the stairs. She didn’t hear David say her name outside her door, because her music was still loud through her headphones and she was stuck in her own little bubble.

David threw open the door and Sara startled on her bed, ripping her headphones out of her ears. His brow was furrowed and his right fist was clenched, and Sara frantically ran through the list of things she was supposed to do today, trying to find the one she had missed.

“Sara,” David said, voice hard and unforgiving. “I’ve been calling you to set the table for lunch for five minutes. What were you doing that’s so important?”

“I-I’m sorry,” Sara stuttered. “I had my headphones in; I was listening to music—”

“I don’t care!” David shouted. “That’s not an excuse for disobeying! You are so ungrateful!” Sara cowered, but that didn’t dissuade her father. He stepped forward and grabbed her roughly by the shoulder, shoving his fist into her solar plexus.

Sara keeled over and gasped, but her father continued yelling. “You disobedient little girl! You are so lucky you have everything you do! If you aren’t downstairs in the next three seconds, I’ll throw you down the stairs!”

Sara nodded feebly and sprang off the bed, ducking under her father’s arm and running down the stairs. She nearly tripped halfway down and had to grab the railing, other hand still holding her torso.

It hurt to reach up into the cabinets to grab the plates, and it didn’t help that their cabinets were tall and Sara was kind of short. Ordinarily, she would have climbed on the counter, but that wasn’t really an option right now, so she stretched as far as she could on her toes and just barely managed to get plates down without breaking them. Her father didn’t believe in stools. She set the table—plates, cups, silverware, napkins—then went back into the kitchen and pulled open the fridge. The platter of sandwiches her mother had made that morning was there, and Sara pulled it out and set it in the middle of the table.

David called Harley in from outside and lunch was a tense thing. For Sara, at least. She kept her head ducked and ate her food, then cleaned up after everyone when they were done. She retreated up to her room when she thought it would be safe, and locked the door behind her. She could hear the TV play again, and the annoying spots announcer voice calling out plays.

Sara should have called Hayden. She wouldn’t have told her anything, but just hearing Hayden’s voice usually soothed her. But she was still kind of bitter and her stress had been building slowly over the last month, and she didn’t know if Hayden would be enough.

Sara picked up her discarded phone, music still blasting through the headphones. She pulled them out and threw them on the floor, then thought better of it and picked them up and set them on her nightstand. Her father was already mad at her, and if he saw what looked like a mess in her room, he’d freak out. She could already feel a bruise starting to form where he hit her.

Sara opened her contacts. She found the one that she didn’t know. It didn’t have a name or a picture or anything. Just a number.

_ Come find me. _

Sara sent the number a message. _ Meet me at the park. _ If that number was who she thought it was, that was all that was needed.

And for once, her hands weren’t shaking.

Sara waited on the swings. She didn’t know if Alex was going to come, or if she had even texted the right number. But still she waited, arms tucked against her sides and feet dragging along the ground. There was a small group of kids playing on the playset, screaming and running.

She didn’t know how long she waited. The weather was nice, and Sara’s pink bomber jacket kept her warm enough. The knife was still tucked in it; her father hadn’t noticed it was missing yet. Or he had, and he didn’t care. Either way, he didn’t have it and Sara did, and it was pressing against her ribs uncomfortably. She had on a thin t-shirt and jeans, and her favorite pair of white Converse on her feet. She scuffed them against the woodchips, uncaring if they got dirty.

An matte black Jeep Wrangler pulled into the small park parking lot. It had a black hardcover back, and no license plate in the front. A girl stepped out, in an Army jacket and baggy light blue jeans. Sara recognized her: Alex. Her long, curly blonde hair was straightened and pulled up, and she kind of looked like she hadn’t slept the night before.

Alex closed the door and leaned against it, and made eye contact with Sara. She didn’t move, so Sara assumed she was meant to go to her. Sara stood, tucking her hands in her pocket and making sure her phone was still in there. It was, so she ducked her head and walked quietly over to Alex. She was afraid, but it didn’t seem to matter at the moment. She felt destructive.

And suddenly, Sara remembered.  _ I can’t offer you a trial period. _ She should have thought this through before acting so irrationally. _ With me, it’s all or nothing. _ Hayden was right, this was a terrible idea. She had made a huge mistake. What had she gotten herself into?

And yet, Sara kept walking. _ I could give you the world. _

When Sara got close enough, Alex got back into the Jeep, and she leaned across the seats to open the passenger side door. Sara took the invitation and climbed in, closing the door behind her. Alex didn’t start the car, but she looked pointedly at Sara until she buckled.

“Tell me why I’m here,” Alex said. Sara didn’t know how to answer. She tucked her hands between her legs.

“I didn’t know what to do,” Sara said.

Alex didn’t ask what that meant.

“Tell me why I trust you,” Sara said. Alex looked at her, gaze heavy. Sara looked at her knees and thought of the knife in her pocket.

“You shouldn’t,” Alex answered, “but I gave you my word that I’d keep you safe. In my world, my word is law. You will be safe with me.”

It wasn’t enough, but Sara accepted it. Why did it matter, anyway? Only her friends would miss her if anything happened, and they would get over it. It wasn’t like she had many prospects in life. She could afford to risk some things.

Alex turned the key, and the Jeep roared to life. Alex didn’t buckle, and she pulled out of the parking lot and turned left. Something fast and foreign was playing over the speakers, but Sara could barely hear it over the engine. The Jeep was a stick shift, and Sara watched Alex’s hand shift gears effortlessly. Sara couldn’t even drive.

They ended up at a bakery, a little white building with a pink and green overhang. Alex shut off the Jeep and got out of the car, and Sara followed her lead. She had been past this place before, but there never seemed to be any cars in the parking lot, or patrons at the tables.

The glass door jingled when Alex pushed it open, and she led Sara up to the counter. “What do you want?” Alex asked, gesturing at the menu. There was a myriad of things to choose from, and a little note in the corner said,  _ All Items Are Freshly Baked! _ A brown-haired man came out from the back room, wearing an apron and a streak of flower on his cheekbone. Despite his defined jawline and obvious muscle, Sara could tell he was a Submissive.

“What can I get you?” he asked, giving her a kind smile. He seemed to be ignoring Alex altogether, but Sara knew that wasn’t the case.

Sara glanced at the menu again, and said, “I’ll have a Passion Tangerine Tea, please?” The man nodded, and went back into the back room, presumably to make the tea.

Sara looked to Alex, and she nodded her head, indicating for Sara to follow. They sat at a table in the corner, Alex taking the seat with her back to the wall. Sara sat across from her, resting her feet on the bar on the legs of the chair and tucked her arms over her stomach, folding in on herself. Alex leveled her with an even look, and Sara felt like she was staring into her soul.

“You’re scared,” Alex said, leaning back in the chair confidently, one hand resting on the table. It conveyed power and control and dominance. It was hard to forget that Alex was a high level Dominant. She showed it with every aspect of her personality. “But you’re not shaking.”

Sara held up a hand, looking at it. It still wasn’t shaking. It should have been.

“Why?” Alex asked. Sara rephrased the question in her head:  _ Why are you scared? _ The part of her brain that hated herself added,  _ you pansy piece of shit _ , but that was the part of her brain that listened to her father, and the logical part of her brain dismissed it.

Sara would have asked:  _ What kind of question is that? _ because it was so absurd, considering who she was with, but she didn’t want to die today.

Instead, she said, “You’re dangerous. I don’t trust you. Nobody knows I’m here. Amongst other things.” She would have shrugged if she was braver.

Alex continued to stare at her, unsettling. Sara stared at the grains of the table. It was a long time before Alex spoke again. The man who took her order came out from the back Sara’s tea and a glass of something green for Alex. She looked up at him, seemingly communicating through their eye contact. She seemed to do that a lot. The man also set a pile of paper and a pen down in front of Alex.

“By tomorrow?” he asked, although it sounded more like a due date. Alex nodded, and started scribbling things down. Sara stared, because she was writing with her right hand. In school, Alex always wrote with her left hand. Well, no, Sara amended, Alex wrote wit her left hand in every class but English, when she wrote on the suspicious papers in the foreign language.

After about half the page, Alex flipped through what turned out to be a six page packet. Alex sighed undetectably, and pushed it aside. “What can I do,” she asked, “to make you feel safe. I promised you safety, and I want to deliver. You need to tell me how to do that.”

Sara fidgeted her fingers. “I don’t trust easily,” Sara said. “You have to earn it.”

Alex nodded, accepting. She seemed softer here, somehow. This place seemed to be somewhere she was comfortable. She obviously had relationships with the people here. This Alex was different from any she’d ever seen. This Alex seemed like someone Sara would like.

Which was also absurd, because this was the daughter of the leader of the Russian Mafia. She probably was comfortable here because she knew these people, and she knew these people were probably part of the Mafia. And Sara was in this building as well, around a bunch of mobsters that were dangerous and she was just a tiny girl who had no physical aptitude—

She was panicking.  _ Take a deep breath. _ It would do her no good to panic here. Alex was watching her; she could see Sara’s chest rising and falling rapidly beneath her jacket. The knife, in her inner pocket decided to make itself known again, hilt digging in between two of her ribs. And that reminded of her of what she assumed was a large bruise below her sternum, and it made it just a little bit harder to breathe.

“Stop thinking,” Alex ordered, and the tone was so strong and dominant that Sara couldn’t help but follow the command. Sara breathed out and let her head drop. Her hair fell in front of her face, and she didn’t bother to move it.

“You’re safe here,” Alex continued. She hadn’t touched the green drink the brown-haired man had set in front of her. “This is my territory. My father’s territory,” she amended. “You’re my charge. No one can harm you here.”

It had only helped a little, but there was one thing— “I’m your charge?” Sara asked indignantly, and her voice would have raise a couple decibels had the situation been different. Like, come on. Sara barely knew this girl, and even though she was a Sub, that didn’t give any Dom the right to claim her, in any way. She wasn’t Alex’s responsibility—she was her own.

Alex looked slightly taken aback by Sara’s outburst. She’d probably never had someone deny her protection before. Her expression hadn’t changed, save for one minutely cocked eyebrow. Her lips pursed just the slightest bit.

“Would you rather be left to the wolves?” Alex asked, voice sinisterly threatening. “Because that’s what these people are: Wolves. They act as one, and they protect their own, fiercely. Harm one member of the pack, and you’re harming them all.”

Sara was quiet; intimidated. Her eyes flickered back and forth from Alex to the table to Alex again. They flicked over to the counter, the back room. Wolves wearing human skins.

“But I,” Alex said, and it would have been theatrical if it had been from anyone else. “My father and I, we are not wolves.” Alex twitched her left ring finger. Sara’s eyes shot to the movement. It was deliberate. “We are Apex Predators. And you know what’s stronger than wolves?” Alex smiled, canines flashing, and it seemed more like she was baring her teeth. “Humans.”

Sara shivered, genuinely terrified. This was a mistake. She wanted to go home. She wanted Hayden. She would even rather be at school right now. Sara closed her eyes, squeezing them shut as hard as she could. Her arms were tight around her stomach, sending a pang through her solar plexus, and she could feel the knife, but it didn’t help the situation at all.

“I don’t say this to frighten you,” Alex said. She ducked her head slightly, like she was trying to put herself of Sara’s level. “You just have to know. This was your choice. But I am your monster, and I will protect you.”

That shook Sara to her core, but it was comforting all the same. She believed Alex would protect her. She also believed she was in one of the most dangerous situations of her life.

Alex stood, sudden but premeditated. “C’mon,” she said. It was and order, and Sara had to follow it. Alex led the way out of the bakery, and Sara spared a glance at the papers Alex left on the table, and Sara had no doubt that she would somehow obtain them later. This time, Alex opened the door of the Jeep for Sara.

Sara climbed in and buckled up. Alex seemed softer now that they had sorted things out. Mostly. Well, softer wasn’t the exact word. Just not as pointy. Still sharp enough to slice, but now there was a piece of fabric covering the blade.

Alex climbed in the driver’s seat, turning the key and flipping the engine. She didn’t buckle. Alex backed out without looking, turning onto the road and pulling into the farthest legal lane. Hayden had shared her Driver’s Ed book last year, and Sara knew that move was illegal. Alex didn’t seem to care.

Alex drove back to the park where she had picked Sara up, only two blocks from Sara’s house. Sara had no doubt in her mind that Alex knew where she lived, but Sara thought it was almost polite, how Alex knew not to drop her at her house. Her father would never accept her getting out of a car he didn’t know, and she’s probably get beaten for it.

Alex pulled into the small parking lot, maneuvering between two cars perfectly. She threw the car in park but didn’t move after that, and neither did Sara. She didn’t know if she was ready to be alone yet, and she definitely wasn’t ready to call Hayden for company. Hayden would ask questions that Sara didn’t want to answer yet.

Alex seemed to understand this, because she didn’t make Sara get out of the car. She just sat there, silent. They watched the kids play on the playground, and it would have been creepy if they were anybody but two teenage girls. Alex’s hands still rested on the steering wheel and gearshift, and Sara didn’t know if that was for her benefit, or for Alex’s own.

Sara stared until her eyes unfocused and everything became blurs of color. Her hands were tucked between her thighs again, something that had become a habit since her Orientation Etiquette classes the summer before last.  _ A Submissive should not draw attention to themselves with excessive body movements. _

She still had the book, but she thought most of it was complete bullshit. It was from the nineties; it instructed Submissives to act practically as slaves, something that hadn’t been around since the eighteen hundreds. Archaic, of course, but the book was still antiquated in this day and age. Sara only knew what Hayden had shared with her of the Dominant’s version of the class, but from what she had surmised, it had told Dominants to treat their Submissives basically as possessions. Archaic and antiquated.

Alex shifted, pulling Sara out of her thoughts. She pulled her hand from the gearshift to the bottom of the steering wheel, and moved her hand at the top of the steering wheel to match her right. She let out an indiscernible breath, and her thigh tensed for half a second.   


“Your father’s a piece of shit,” she said, suddenly and bluntly, voice strong. She didn’t turn her head when she spoke, and Sara almost startled. “He shouldn’t beat you.”

Sara sucked in a breath, feeling reckless. “Look who’s talking,” she said, not turning her head either.

“What I’ve done is not under scrutiny. We’re talking fathers. Your father beats you. And despite my lifestyle, my father has never laid a hand on me. That should say something to you. You know who my father is, and you know who your father is. Which one of them beats his child?”

Sara didn’t want to talk about this. She could feel the beginnings of tears forming in her eyes, and she squeezed her legs together.

“Despite my lifestyle, I was raised in a supportive, dare I say loving household. Legally, our actions are bad, but is it really a crime if it’s bad people doing bad things to other bad people? Objectively, we’re bad people. But people are layered, and complicated, and you can’t slice them down to just one aspect. Your father is a cop. He isn’t a dirty one, and, in some perspectives, he’d be viewed as a good person.

“But he comes home, and his sixteen year old Submissive daughter hasn’t set the table for dinner yet, so he hits her. He thinks it’s what needs to be done to put her in her place. What kind of man does that? Wields his biology over the weaker just because he can? Just because she can’t disobey. What kind of person do you have to be to manipulate your privilege like that?”

Sara choked back a strangled noise. She didn’t want to think about this. She didn’t want to go home. She didn’t want to exist. She wanted Alex to stop talking. She wanted not to have heard those words at all. She wanted to disappear.

Alex said, “I’m not much of a savior, but you deserve saving.”

Insubordinately, she threw open the car door and slid out, slamming it behind her. She walked quickly, refusing to run, and wiping at her eyes roughly.  _ I don’t need saving _ , she thought. 

She passed the park to the small copse of trees behind it, finding the one she had always loved as a child. It was a tall pine, with branches interspaced well enough to make climbing effortless. Sara stepped onto the bottommost branch, grabbing ones above her and hauling herself into the tree. There was a small grouping of branches about halfway up that were formed ideally to create a semi-comfortable seat.

That was where Sara headed, ignoring the sap and scraps of bark that stuck to her hands and clothes. Normally she hated messes, but she couldn’t bring herself to care right now. She sat down on the branches, pulling her knees to her chest and wrapping her arms around them. She could see the Jeep still in the parking lot, and Alex didn’t appear to have any intention of leaving.

From what Sara could see, Alex was writing with her right hand again, and Sara had the passing thought that she had somehow acquired the papers from the bakery. But that was impossible. She had left them there, and no other cars had entered or left the lot since they’d gotten here. It was probably different papers.

Sara ducked her head, resting her forehead on her knees. She could feel the knife in her inner pocket. Her phone, in her outer pocket, was pressing against her thigh. She knew she had headphones in the arm pocket of her bomber jacket. Taking stock, was what she was doing. Blue had said it was one of the coping mechanisms to use when you were feeling panicky. Sara could never remember it when she needed to. But she always remembered to measure her breaths and count slowly backward from thirty.

Which was what she was doing now, head on her knees, arms around them, blocking out the daylight. She wasn’t worried about falling out of the tree; her feet and back were planted firmly, and she had been up here so many times, it was almost as familiar to her as her own bed.

She lost time up there in that tree, breathing and not particularly thinking about anything. She had been doing enough thinking lately. She was done for now.

When she looked up again, the sun was considerably lower in the sky, and most of the children had left. But the Jeep was still there. Alex was still in the front seat. Sara didn’t know what that meant.

Nonetheless, Sara lowered herself from the tree. Her feet hit the ground heavily; her legs were asleep. She heard the roar of the Jeep’s engine, a sound she could now pick out of a crowd. Sara started the short trek home, following the cracked sidewalks without looking up. She knew where she was going. She had walked this path enough times that she could tell the individual sidewalks blocks, and when and where exactly to turn to get back home.

The front door was unlocked, which was good, because she didn’t have her key and she didn’t think her father would take too kindly to her knocking. She closed the door behind her, kicking off her shoes and picking them up so she could carry them to her room. She pointedly didn’t look into the rest of the house, instead ducking her head and heading straight up the stairs. She tried to be as quiet as possible shutting her bedroom door behind her, and when it was closed, she let out a breath. She flicked on the lamp in the corner of her room and dropped her shoes in her closet, flopping down onto her bed. She’d had a long day.

The clock on her wall said it was six twenty-seven, which meant she had thirteen minutes before dinner, and eight minutes before she had to go down to set the table. Sara groaned internally. She didn’t want to exist right now.

But existing was a necessity, because she had responsibilities and things she had to do before school tomorrow and a bunch of other stuff. Her chest still hurt, but it wasn’t a forethought. Instead, she dragged herself out of bed, completely unwilling, and shrugged off her jacket. It wasn’t acceptable dinner attire. Her mother would be in the kitchen right now, making the finishing touches on tonight’s dinner. Her father would probably be sitting on the couch still, watching football or reading the paper. Her sister would be in her room, probably listening to music or playing a game on her computer. (She was a Dom; she didn’t have responsibilities when there were two other Subs in the family who could take care of things for them.)

Sara padded back down the stairs in her socks, absolutely dreading the entire rest of her life. She didn’t want to set the table for dinner, or, even worse, sit down and make polite conversation with her family. ( _ A Submissive does not speak unless spoken to first _ .) She didn’t want to go to church tomorrow, she didn’t want to go to school the next day, and she definitely didn’t want to interact with people for the rest of her life.

But she set the table, and helped her mother with dinner, and they all sat down at the table and ate their food properly and made polite dinner conversation. Afterward, Sara and her mother cleared the table and did the dishes, and then Sara went back upstairs and went to bed. (Finally.)


	13. chapter 12

“Where were you?” James asked when Alex walked into the room. His voice was blank, not even curious as to what her answer might be. Alex barely regarded him, dropping her keys on her desk and falling down onto her bed, not removing her coat or shoes.

James stood up from the couch he was on, walking over and resting a hand on Alex’s calf. She kicked at him, not holding back, but James knew her well enough to move out of the way before the heavy boot made contact. He grabbed the boot, unlacing it without looking, and pulled it off of Alex’s foot. She didn’t acknowledge him, but she lifted her other foot for him to do the same to that one. James followed her non-verbal order, because he really didn’t want to be kicked tonight.

Next, he sat down beside her and pulled her—his—Army jacket from her shoulders, one arm at a time because otherwise it’d be too much like restraining her and she’d freak out. And probably beat James up for it. So he was careful, and tossed the jacket over the back of a chair so it wouldn’t get wrinkled, because Alex didn’t care about the state of her clothes (outside of her tac suit), but he did.

Alex didn’t look at him when he laid down beside her. She was staring straight ahead a the map on her wall, unblinking. Obviously thinking. It was never good when Alex thought, because she usually didn’t need to. Her brain moved so fast she didn’t need to spend time to think about things. She could make important decisions and think through every possible outcome in seconds. Her thinking this long meant something was wrong.

“What did you do?” James asked, suspiciously and uncertainty. “If you did something, you just gotta say so, and we can fix it.” James sat up a little and set a cautious hand on Alex’s shoulder, careful not to invoke her temper. It didn’t work though, because Alex grabbed his arm and flipped him onto his stomach, pinning his arm behind his back and sitting on him. James knew she wasn’t really mad, though, because she left his other arm resting on the bed.

“I didn’t  _ do  _ anything,” Alex answered. “I was just out. Get off my dick.” She rolled off of him, sprawling out on the bed and nibbling on the end of her fingernail because she liked the sound it made and the way it felt against her teeth. James pushed himself up, sitting cross-legged and pulling Alex’s legs into his lap. She allowed it, staring at him balefully.

“You’re never just out,” James said, because it was after six o’clock. He framed Alex’s knee with his hands. “You have too much work to do to leave the house without a reason. Besides high school.”

“I didn’t know they were in there!” Alex cried, throwing her hands up. “Otherwise I wouldn’t have done it!”

She and James have had this argument often since Alex had started this semester, and after Alex had been done having this argument with her father.

James let the moment pass, and asked again: “Where were you tonight?”

Alex’s glare returned full force, but this time she didn’t try to evade the question. “You know that girl who overheard my conversation with Nikolay?” she asked, dropping the glare but still staring James in the eyes.

“The one you didn’t kill?” James asked back, but he was only confirming who Alex was talking about.

“She called me.” She amended, “texted me. I picked her up and took her to the bakery.”

“You did what?” James asked, not quite a yell but close enough.

“You heard me,” Alex snapped, shoving one of her feet into James’s thigh. It hurt, but he didn’t stop her, because he knew if he did she’d just fight back harder.

“Why?”

“Don’t ask stupid questions.” The ‘if you don’t want stupid answers’ was left unsaid. Alex kicked him in the side this time, right below his ribs. It hurt.

James knew Alex did everything for a reason. He knew a lot of things about Alex. More than anyone else, probably, because he was her favorite person, contradictory as to how she might act. She loved him, but probably not as much as he loved her, because she didn’t feel love all that much. Alex’s father had loved her the same way Alex loved, but Alex’s mother had loved her—both of them—enough for the entire world. She had been a wonderful woman.

James sucked in a breath to say, ‘I hope you know what you’re doing,’ but thought better of it before he could even open his mouth. Alex knew what she was doing. Always. It was matter of  _ what  _ she was doing that determined how far ahead Alex had thought it out.

And in this situation, it seemed Alex hadn’t thought this out at all. Pretty girls had always been her vice.

“There’s no damage control needed to be done here,” Alex said, and James would have used the word  _ comforted  _ if Alex ever did that. “She’s so submissive, I raise my voice even just a little bit and she practically falls to pieces. There’s nothing she can do.”

“You sound… partial,” James said. A grin licked at the corners of his mouth, but he suppressed it. It wasn’t often Alex was interest in anything outside the circle.

“She is very…” Alex played her fingers through the air, “adequate.”

James let himself smile, because to Alex,  _ adequate  _ meant  _ magnificent _ ,  _ marvelous _ ,  _ dazzling _ ,  _ exquisite _ . He let Alex see the smile, and she kicked him in the shoulder so hard he nearly fell off the bed. It hurt, but James laughed, because it made Alex laugh. He pulled himself back up on the bed without using his legs, because Alex would probably kick his legs out from under him if he did. She was nice like that.

“Let’s watch a movie. Not _ Fight Club _ ,” he said, dragging himself next to her, legs dragging uselessly behind him. It was kind of fun, since he was strong enough for it.

“ _ The Martian _ it is,” Alex relented, reaching under her bed to grab her laptop. Alex’s favorite thing after fighting was science. Then math. And it made her smarter than anyone James had ever known, besides her father. She didn’t really like history, but she had a penchant for remembering specific names and dates.

James rested his head against Alex’s bicep, and she wrestled with him with one arm until they were by his sides and she knew he wouldn’t move them. She lay on her back beside him, laptop resting on her (incredible, objectively) thighs, but she did throw a leg over his hip and in between his legs so he couldn’t move. Her calf pressed right against his dick but James didn’t mention it, because if he did she’d probably dig her heel in until he cried. She was nice like that.

Alex started the movie but James didn’t really watch it, because he’d seen it almost as many times as  _ Fight Club _ . He mostly started at Alex’s hands, resting on her lower stomach. They twitched whenever whoever was narrating went on a scientific rant, because she liked that kind of thing.

The movie ended and Alex was asleep. James picked up the laptop heedfully, hoping not to wake Alex. She didn’t sleep as much as she should. He tucked the laptop under the bed and curled around Alex, mostly because she generated more heat than he did, but also because she couldn’t stop him. Even though he had his own room, right across the hall, it was easier for him to sleep when he was with her, and he knew it was easier for her to sleep when it was with him, although she’d never say it. Mutually beneficial.


	14. chapter 13

Sara breezed through Monday in a haze, but she seemed to being doing that so often that she was able to hide it well. At least, Hayden didn’t notice, which Sara counted as a win. She had been more protective than ever, lately—since Sara had told her about Alex. Sara had gotten a reprieve that weekend, but now that Hayden wasn’t busy with family things, she was back to being plastered to Sara’s side. It was exhausting.

Like right now, Sara was sitting at Hayden’s desk doing her Chemistry homework, almost finished, and Hayden was sitting on her bed, reading a book for English. Sara had been home (mostly) all weekend, and she didn’t want to be there anymore, and, conveniently, Hayden wasn’t leaving her by herself, so here they were at Hayden’s house.

Sara sighed, setting her head in her hands. She didn’t understand what this question was asking, and she had been doing homework for nearly an hour and a half. She just wanted to take a nap, or watch a movie, or draw; do something that didn’t require thinking. Her brain hurt.

Hayden could probably sense her distress, because she came up behind Sara and set a hand on the back of her neck. It didn’t help, but Sara appreciated the gesture. She closed her eyes and leaned back in the desk chair, letting Hayden swing a leg over her thighs and lower herself onto her lap. Her hands framed Sara’s face.

“Where were you this weekend?” she asked, like she was starting a conversation, but Sara knew she had other intentions. She sighed, tipping her head back. Another question she didn’t want to answer.

“At home,” Sara answered, a lie of omission.

“Now I know that’s not true,” Hayden said softly. Not accusatory, but not letting it go, either. “Harley said you left on Sunday. And you weren’t with Minerva or any of them, either.”

“You’re keeping tabs on me?” Sara asked, only slightly offended.

“I’m trying to make sure you’re safe,” Hayden corrected, letting her hands drop to Sara’s shoulders. They dug into the meat of her trapezius. (Not like there was much to dig into; Sara wasn’t the most muscular person around.)

Hayden didn’t ask a question so Sara didn’t say anything. She wouldn’t outright lie to Hayden, but that didn’t mean she had to tell her everything. Hayden was just staring at her, eyes searching. Like she was trying to see through Sara’s eyes what she was thinking.

Sara didn’t think it was working.

“Tell me where you were,” Hayden said, pulling the ‘I’m a Dominant and you have to listen to me’ card. (But it wasn’t like her father. It was so very different.)

“I was with Alex Barnes,” she said, because she had no choice.

Hayden didn’t react. She never reacted. Instead, she took a moment, sighed, and leaned back so her mid back rested against the desk, but her hands stayed on Sara’s shoulders. “You do know that was dangerous, right?” she asked, like she knew how Sara would answer, and she just wanted to confirm it.

Sara kept her mouth shut. She nodded.

“And you know how stupid it was, too, right?” Hayden asked next, voice harsher. Sara suppressed a flinch. It wouldn’t do her any good to curl in on herself right now. And Hayden was holding down her legs.

Sara nodded.

“Did she take you somewhere?” Hayden asked, almost angry.

Sara hesitated this time, but she nodded again.

Hayden caught the movement. “You hesitated,” she said, and this time it was accusatory. Sara was silent. “Tell me what happened. Where did she take you?”

“A bakery,” Sara answered. “She took me to a bakery, and bought me tea—and now that I think about it, she didn’t pay for anything. She asked me what she needed to do to make me feel safe. I told her I don’t trust easily, that she needs to earn it. She sounded like she actually cared. And then she told me that since we were on her father’s territory, I was safe, because I was under her protection.”

She left out the part about the wolves. Hayden didn’t need to know that.

_ I am your monster and I will protect you. _

She left out the part about the fathers and families, too. About good and bad. Hayden didn’t need to know that, either.

_ I’m not much of a savior, but you deserve saving. _

That was the last thing Alex had said to her.

“You’re joking,” Hayden said, because she knew Sara wasn’t. “You should have called me, when you knew you were safe.”

“I didn’t want you to know,” Sara said. “I knew you were worried. I didn’t want to put you through that because of the choices I’ve made. It’s not fair to you.”

“Sara,” Hayden said, but it sounded more loving than scolding. “I don’t care about whether it’s fair to me or not. I care about you. I want to know you’re safe.”

Sara held Hayden’s deep brown eyes, like an unending galaxy. Hayden wouldn’t let her look away. They stared at each other for more than a few minutes, saying everything they couldn’t say out loud. Hayden’s eyes were flicking back and forth between Sara’s, searching.

“I’m sorry,” Sara said. “I wasn’t thinking. But I don’t totally regret it. There’s something about her, Hayden, I just don’t know what yet.”

Hayden broke eye contact, shaking her head. “You really do have an insane streak, you know?” But nevertheless, Hayden got off of Sara’s lap, dragging her hands down her arms until their fingers were clasped. She walked backward and pulled Sara with her until they were both falling onto her bed. Sara landed with an ‘oomph’, half atop Hayden and probably digging her elbow into Hayden’s stomach.

Hayden didn’t mind, though. She just pulled them both up the bed so their heads were resting on the pillows. She cuddled Sara to her chest, grabbing her remote off of her nightstand and turning on the small TV she had on her dresser.

“We’re gonna continue to talk about these things,” Hayden insisted, but she didn’t seem to aim to do so herself. She pulled the ends of the blankets around them and they settled down for the night, because Sara had texted her parents earlier that she was sleeping over and she still had clothes at Hayden’s from the last time she slept over.

Hayden pressed small kisses to Sara’s shoulder, making Sara’s eyes lull. She was so tired. She couldn’t even remember what they were watching. She leaned into Hayden, her warmth, her protectiveness, and was out before the episode even finished.


	15. chapter 14

It was Friday, and Sara had been in loud school for seven hours, forcibly kept away from Alex by fatal glares from her friends, and now she was in a loud mall with even more people when all she was thinking about was how much homework she had and not even the fries Hayden bought for her were helping.

But really, the fries were kind of helping, because it proved, in a way, that Hayden loved her. Hayden showed her love through food, just like most of the people Sara’s parents’ age. She was also sandwiched between Hayden and Minerva on one of the booths in front of an indoor tree. The boys were sitting across from them, Blue tucked under Adam’s arm and Roman hanging awkwardly to the side like a third wheel.

Sara smiled at him amusedly. He knew he wasn’t a third wheel, and that they all loved him. They would have been sitting as they usually did, Roman next to Sara next to Hayden, across from Minerva next to Blue next to Adam. Really, only Minerva and Roman switched places, but the two Subs were still protected in the middle. But Sara always had always felt safer with girls, and the boys understood that, and didn’t take offense.

Mostly, the conversation had been amicable so far, only a few lulls where Sara could tell questions went unasked. No one mentioned where Sara had disappeared to last weekend, and they hadn’t in school either. They always knew where each other were, but they also knew not to pry into secrets that weren’t theirs.

Currently, Sara was trying to throw her fries into Roman’s open mouth, but she kept missing and Blue would catch them and feed them to Adam before they hit the floor. It was comfortable, because things between the six of them were always comfortable. It never wouldn’t be, no matter the situation. Minerva was telling Sara how to improve her aim with trajectories and how hard she threw the fry, and Hayden was laughing when it didn’t work.

Roman’s shiny, dark blond curls bounced at the same time the fry did when it hit off his nose and Blue’s surprisingly quick hand shot out to catch it before it hit the ground, pinching it between two fingers and holding it before Adam’s lips with a smile on his face. Adam took the fry, of course, and Hayden threw another one at them for being gross. Most of Sara’s fries had ended up in Adam’s stomach at this point.

When they finished the fries, more as a group than just Sara, they threw away the paper plate and set the tray on top of the trash can like good hooligan teenagers. (Which most people assumed they were, because four Dominants were hanging out with two Submissives, which most people assumed was to have a fall-guy.) (It wasn’t actually like that.)

Hayden and Sara led the way through the crowded hallways—it was mostly Hayden, because Sara didn’t know where they were going. Adam and Blue were behind them, holding hands and being all disgustingly loving. Roman and Minerva brought up the rear, talking about something complicated because they were probably the two smartest people in the group.

Hayden made them all stop outside of Target, because she liked to make them all try on heels and attempt to make them all the same height. (It never worked, but it sure was fun.) They all agreed, Adam albeit dubiously, complaining that his calves hurt from leg day yesterday. Blue just poked him in the stomach—(he would have punched him, Sara knew, but that wasn’t Socially Acceptable for a Sub to do to his Dom, and they were in public)—and Adam agreed, leaning down to bump his nose against Blue’s.

In the store, to make them all the same height, Adam ended up wearing flats, because he was ridiculously tall, but it also gave him no reason to complain about leg day anymore. Sara and Blue ended up wearing five and a half inch heels (basically stilettos), because they were the same height and for some biological reason Sara didn’t understand, Subs were usually shorter than Doms, and add to that girls usually being shorter than boys, Sara really got the short end of the stick. (Pun intended.)

Hayden only had to wear three and a half inch heels and Minerva wore four, and Roman wore two inch heels. They strutted around the store like runway models, Blue coaching them because he liked to watch those kinds of shows. Sara was pretty sure most of it ended up on his Snapchat story.

They split up a little bit, not bothering to take off the shoes but staying close to the shoes section. Right across from it was the electronics section, and Sara kind of needed some new headphones. Her’s worked if you held the cord at exactly the right angle, but it made her hand cramp. She didn’t want to ask her parents to buy her new ones, because her dad would call her ungrateful and her mom would say she didn’t need them. And Sara couldn’t buy them for herself, because she had no money.

She didn’t have a job, because she wasn’t contracted, and uncontracted Submissives weren’t allowed to have jobs. Most Submissive’s families gave them an allowance, but Sara’s father didn’t believe she needed one, so Sara had absolutely no money ever, and had to rely on other people to buy her things. Sara’s friends understood, and she knew none of them particularly liked her parents, but there wasn’t anything they could do about it.

Hayden had told Sara she would buy her new headphones, because she loved to dote on Sara, and she had a job  _ and  _ an allowance. Hayden probably had more money saved up than any kid Sara knew, and she had no reservations about spending it on her friends.

A group of teenage boys wandered over to the end of the isle, laughing loudly and shoving each other around. Sara ducked her head a little bit—she could tell they were Dominants—and kept inspecting headphones, unintentionally trying not to draw attention to herself. She could feel Hayden tense beside her, protective. Sara heard the boys snickering, and could see them pointing in a way they thought was subtle out of the corner of her eye.

One of them, obviously the leader, stepped forward. He sidled up to Sara and Hayden, looking back at his friends like he was bragging. He leaned against the shelf beside Sara, resting his arm by his head and leaning against it against the shelf.

“Hey, girl,” he said, and Sara could automatically tell he was a douchebag. “Your legs look incredible in those heels. How ‘bout you spread ‘em for me?”

His friends laughed behind him like they thought it would work, but Sara said, “Sorry, I only answer to guys to have at least average intelligence.”

The guy’s friends ‘ooo’ed behind him, probably throwing their hands to their mouths in the way stupid teenage boys did.

The guy said, “Hey, now—” but before he could finish, Hayden stepped around Sara and slammed the thin end of her heel into his foot.

The guy keeled over in pain but Hayden shoved her knee up into his groin and he stumbled backward. She growled, “You’re not good enough for her. Fuck off.” She set her hand on Sara’s back to lead her away and back to their friends.

Sara was glad Hayden stepped in if she did, because otherwise Sara would have done exactly what she just did, and she probably would have ended up in Juvie for the night, if the guy had pressed charges. Submissives assaulting Dominants had greater repercussions than Dominants assaulting Dominants.

Adam was back in his shoes, and so were Minerva and Roman, but Blue was still in his heels, like Hayden and Sara. Hayden told them what happened and they all got really protective, even Blue, and Adam threatened—or maybe offered—to go find them and beat them up. Sara told him that wasn’t necessary. She wasn’t too upset about the situation. (Especially not in light of recent events.)

They loitered around the mall for a couple hours after that, only going to a few more stores. At one point, Sara convinced them all to ride on the carousel. Most of it ended up on Sara’s Snapchat Story, except for a little bit when she accidentally dropped her phone. Around ten, the mall started to close, and they all split up to go home. Blue and Adam were heading back to Adam’s place, Roman and Minerva went to Minerva’s, and Hayden and Sara went to Hayden’s.

Sara was braiding her hair in front of Hayden’s mirror while Hayden changed into pajamas, then threw some at Sara. Sara smiled gratefully, tying off her hair, and changed into them. Hayden was standing in front of her with an indecipherable look on her face when her head emerged from the neck of Hayden’s t-shirt.

“What?” Sara asked, furrowing her eyebrows. Hayden kept staring at her, and Sara assumed she was trying to figure out how to word her question. Hayden wasn’t always the best with words, and she had to think about things before she said them.

(Whereas Alex, the words just rolled off of her tongue, perfect and eloquent and complete. Sara could tell—Alex only thought for show.)

“Are you okay?” Hayden asked, but the question was too vague for Sara to answer, so she stayed silent. Hayden elaborated, “After today, with those guys at the mall. Are you okay?”

Sara let out a breath; she knew this was going to come out at some point. She walked around Hayden to sit on the bed, crossing her legs beneath her. Hayden followed, sitting slightly behind Sara so she could curl over her and set her chin on Sara’s shoulder. “Talk to me,” she whispered, breath cool on Sara’s cheek.

Sara curled her hands in her lap. “Honestly,” she said. “I’m fine. Really. It didn’t bother me as much as you think it did.”

And it hadn’t, really. Alex had said she would protect Sara. Logically, Sara knew she wouldn’t have shown up at the mall and stepped in right before something that happened, because this wasn’t a shitty action movie and she wasn’t following Sara around everywhere. But still, it made Sara feel a little bit safer knowing that if Sara would have gotten hurt, there would have been serious repercussions for those boys. Ethical or unethical. Sara didn’t care.

(And boy, did that say something.)

Hayden didn’t speak, but Sara could feel her breathing against her back. Hayden wrapped her arms around Sara’s waist and leaned back against her headboard, and Sara relaxed against her. This was safe. Hayden was safe.

“D’ya promise?” Hayden asked.

“I promise,” Sara confirmed. She turned her face into Hayden’s neck. Physical contact with her friends was the only positive physical contact she had in her life, so of course she’d take advantage of it. Hayden helped her maneuver so she was laying on her side, curled up against Hayden’s side. It was warm enough that they didn’t need a blanket.

Hayden grabbed the remote for her TV from her nightstand, and Sara whined low in her throat when she moved her arm. Hayden returned it immediately, twisting her wrist so she could turn on the TV and start up Netflix. Sara didn’t know what she played, but the sound was soothing anyway. She tucked her nose beneath Hayden’s collarbone and closed her eyes.


	16. chapter 15

Sara got home around one o’clock on Saturday, empty handed except for a new pair of headphones in her pocket. The front door was unlocked again—thank God for trusting suburban neighborhoods. She closed the front door quietly behind her and kicked off her shoes, picking them up so she could carry them to her room. She turned and her father was standing five feet away, at the base of the stairs.

“You took your time,” he said. He was leaning against the bannister, one leg crossed behind the other. Sara ducked her head, not wanting to anger him.

“I’m sorry,” she said, holding her shoes with both hands. “Hayden’s parents made breakfast and insisted I stay for lunch. I texted mom…” she trailed off, because her father was still staring at her.

“Just don’t let me see your face for the rest of the day,” David said, and walked past Sara, purposely going out of his way to try to hit Sara with his shoulder as he went by, but Sara stepped out of the way, just like he wanted her to.

She shuffled up stairs, closing the door to her room as softly as she could. She dropped her shoes in her closet. She sat down on the edge of her bed, resting her elbows on her knees and her head in her hands. This meant she was confined to her room for the rest of the day, and she wasn’t allowed to come out for dinner. She’d just have to grab extra breakfast tomorrow morning.

And because he was their Head of House, she wasn’t allowed to disobey his order. She hadn’t had any homework this weekend (first time since the beginning of the semester) (also why she had gone out with her friends yesterday), so she didn’t have that to do for the rest of the day. She could draw, but she had almost filled up her sketchbook and she didn’t think her parents would take to kindly to her asking for a new one, and Hayden had just bought her headphones, so she would feel bad asking for something else.

She could always mess around on the internet for the rest of the day, but that always left her feeling anxious and unproductive, and a little guilty because she hadn’t gotten anything done. She didn’t have to do that all day, she could always doodle on scratch paper, or in her sketchbook, and look for inspiration or references online.

Ugh, look at her. She was so boring. She was literally planning how to spend the rest of her day locked in her room. She was a teenager! She should be spontaneous! But she was also a Sub, and a girl, and she was rather timid around people.

_ Oh my God _ , she thought. She couldn’t even be properly spontaneous.

Sara groaned and flung herself back on her bed, head narrowly missing hitting the wall. She threw her arm over her eyes, letting the other one rest on the bed. The clock on her wall told her it was one-twelve. She knew she wouldn’t get tired until at least eleven. That meant almost ten hours until she was tired, and another eight hours after that until she was allowed to leave her room and eat again.

Her phone had fallen out of her pocket when she had lain down, and was now resting right beside her face. It buzzed once, probably Hayden texting to make sure she got home okay. If she didn’t answer Hayden would probably freak out and drive over here, and that wouldn’t make her father any happier.

Sara rolled onto her side, grabbing her phone, unlocking it. She answered Hayden’s text and exited out of their conversation. She glanced over her previous conversations, with her mom, a group text with her squad, a group text with her family, and—her conversation with Alex.

That was an option.

She opened it. The only text was from Sara. _ Meet me at the park _ . The contact still didn’t have a name—just a number—even after Sara had confirmed who it was. It felt wrong to disturb the anonymity.

She tapped out another text. The same thing as last time:  _ Meet me at the park _ . But this time it would be a little more difficult to sneak out of the house. She had a lot of things in front of her windows, and plants on the shelf of her bay window beside her bed. And even if she got out of those windows, she was on the second floor, and even if she managed to get down, she’d probably manage to get caught, because her bedroom was over the back porch, and the big glass sliding doors. Their house had an open floor plan—her father would be able to see her from anywhere downstairs. So those wouldn’t work.

But—the bathroom. It had one window, easy to open right above the toilet. There were no windows beneath it, because it was right beside the chimney outcropping for the fireplace. And, there was a thick lattice for her mother’s plants. It was the perfect way out of the house.

(Why hadn’t she thought of this before? She was a teenager, right?)

Sara sat up, hopping off her bed and sliding her shoes back on. She hadn’t taken off her coat, but she grabbed her father’s knife that she had stashed in her nightstand and shoved it in the inner pocket of her jacket.

She peeked her head out of her room to make sure her father wasn’t in the hallway before sneaking into the bathroom. Well, it wasn’t exactly sneaking, because she was allowed to use the bathroom. But it also was sneaking, because she was leaving the house without letting her parents know.

Sara opened the window, and the cool breeze greeted her face. The toilet seat was down and she stepped onto it, turning around to lower herself out of the second-storey window. Her arms shook a little, from apprehension or fear, or because she was physically lacking, she didn’t know. But she dug her toes in between the lattices and gripped with her fingers, and she made it down without any real danger.

It felt strange to be sneaking out of the house in the middle of the day, and she kept expecting to blink and it would be night, the only light coming from the moon. But she blinked and it was still day, the clouds still overhead and the sun still shining. Sara’s feet hit the ground and she shook out her hands, cramping from even the short climb. Two thoughts pushed to the forefront of her mind: one, she really needed to work out more—or at all—and two, she was going to have to do that  _ again  _ to get back inside. Ugh.

God, maybe she hadn’t thought this through.

But nonetheless, she tucked her hands in her pockets and ducked her head against the slight breeze, and headed away from her house, trying to stay out of view of any windows. To do so, she had to backtrack around the block, but she still made it to the park.

The Jeep wasn’t in the parking lot when Sara got there, and neither was the Camaro she sometimes saw Alex climb into. She sat on the swings again, digging her toes into the dirt, reminiscent of the last time.

She heard the familiar roar of the Jeep’s engine and looked up. It parked, and Alex didn’t get out, and this time Sara didn’t hesitate to stand up and walk over. Alex leaned over to unlock the passenger side door. Sara opened it herself and climbed in, being sure to buckle up before Alex tore out of the parking lot. Sara resisted the urge to grab onto the door for support—her hands were tucked neatly between her thighs again, and that’s how they were going to stay.

Alex drove to the bakery again, and this time Sara recognized the route a little more easily. Alex drove like she was racing, and Sara subtly braced her feet against the floor of the car and her back against the seat as not to fly around. She maneuvered around other cars like she had the authority to, and maybe she did. Sara didn’t know. She cut off some guy in a blue sedan to swing into the bakery’s parking lot, which was empty, as always. Alex slid into a parking spot and threw the car into park, climbing out and expecting Sara to follow.

Sara did, and she didn’t want to describe it as  _ obediently _ , but really. C’mon. Alex held the door open long enough for Sara to slip in behind her, and again led them to the counter. The same brunet guy was behind the counter, but this time he wasn’t wearing an apron, and the buttons of his shirt were undone. Sara could just barely see the hint of a tattoo peeking out.

He smiled at Sara, overlooking Alex again. “What’ll you have?” he asked Sara, leaning his hands against the counter.

“Same as last time,” Sara said, because she assumed he’d remember. She wasn’t wrong, because the guy walked back through the small doorway, presumably to make Sara’s tea.

This time, though, Alex didn’t go sit down, so Sara stood awkwardly beside her as they waited for her drink. The guy came back out within two minutes, handing Sara her Passion Tangerine Tea and Alex another weird green smoothie.

Only after they got their drinks did Alex start to move, but instead of going toward the tables she went out a little side door. It led outside, into a little garden, with more outdoor tables around it. She sat down at one next to a little water feature, a small pond with a smaller fountain.

Sara sat in the chair opposite her, crossing her legs. She was glad she hadn’t been wearing a skirt, because it was kind of cold out here. Instead, she was wearing her thickest leggings, the ones she’d been wearing yesterday. She had borrowed one of Hayden’s sweatshirts when she left this morning—or, afternoon—and she still had her jacket and shoes on, but it was a little chilly anyway.

Sara sipped her tea, shivering only slightly. It was kind of a nice day out, she had to admit. This time, Alex actually took a drink of the disgusting looking green smoothie, without even flinching. She seemed content not to talk, instead just sitting there and staring at the water.

“Some guys tried to hit on me at the mall yesterday,” Sara said, because she wanted to know how Alex would react.

Alex’s hand rested against the table, ankle resting on opposite knee. Picture of confidence. She was still staring ahead, at the pond. But Sara could see the way her shoulders tensed slightly beneath her jacket when Sara spoke. It was slightly satisfying.

Alex raised an eyebrow. “And?”

“Hayden smashed his foot and kneed him in the balls,” Sara answered, and Alex nodded minutely. Sara restrained a smile.

They were quiet for a while after that, and Sara finished her drink. Alex didn’t finish hers, probably because it was disgusting. Sara stared at a small copse of flowers, and how they were still blooming in this weather, she didn’t know. They were probably mutant or something. Or alien. Extra-terrestrial. Or they were just a species that bloomed later. She didn’t know why they had lived this long, but Sara appreciated it.

She tucked her foot behind her leg, Converse scuffing her leggings. She probably should have put jeans on over them, but she didn’t expect to be outside. It was nice, though. The indoors seemed stifling right now. Sara shoved her hands between her thighs again, trying to ward off the cold. Maybe she didn’t produce as much body heat as other people, and that’s why she was usually cold.

Alex probably ran warm, because she wasn’t even twitching at the chill. She had on a thin pullover beneath her leather jacket, and ripped jeans without tights underneath. Sara always wore tights under her jeans when it was even just a little bit colder than usual. Even right now, she was wearing fuzzy socks beneath her Converse.

She kind of wished she had her favorite blanket from her room, but she had no way of getting it now. She’d have to wait until she got back home, and then there was the matter of getting back inside. It would probably be harder than getting out had been, and someone may have noticed that she was missing, and then her entire family would freak out.

She had not thought this through.

And despite her better judgement, she found herself compelled to tell Alex about it. And so Sara, who had almost no control over her compulsions, especially in the face of opposition (Minerva always jokingly told her she was a really bad Sub), did.

“My dad said he didn’t want to see me for the rest of the day,” Sara blurted. Alex didn’t turn her head, but she raised an eyebrow.

“I would’ve had to stay in my room until tomorrow,” Sara continued. “He doesn’t do it often,” she said, and she didn’t know why she was trying to defend him. “Only when he gets really irritated, or when I don’t behave.” Her voice grew quiet, and petered off by the end.

Alex was staring at her. She uncrossed her legs and took her hand off the table, resting her elbows on her knees. Her hands hung down limply, but Sara had no reservations it meant she was relaxed.

“At least I don’t have to set the table or make polite dinner conversation,” Sara shrugged. “But it also means I don’t get dinner.” She didn’t know why she was sharing all this information. She couldn’t stop, once she started.

Alex’s head jerked like she was going to lower her chin to her chest, but she changed her mind and lifted it again. She asked, “When was the last time you ate?”

“At Hayden’s house, around noon,” Sara answered, voice small. It had only been about two and a half hours ago. She wasn’t hungry yet, and the tea had helped stave off the hunger.

Next, randomly, Alex asked, “When do you have to be home?”

Sara furrowed her brow. “I usually go to sleep around eleven, why?”

Alex didn’t answer, she just kept staring at Sara, so Sara let it go.

They sat there for maybe another half hour, and after about five minutes Sara felt comfortable enough to pull out her phone. She noticed Alex already had hers out, and had maybe had it out the whole time, and that every word on the screen was in a foreign language. Sara recognized it as Cyrillic from her history class, but she couldn’t identify what country’s Cyrillic. Alex typed faster than anyone had ever seen, even Blue.

Alex seemed content, or as content as Alex could seem. Sara played a game on her phone, and answered texts from her friends in vague language. She told them that her father had sent her to her room for the rest of the day, so they knew not to come over, but she didn’t tell them that she had snuck out and was now with the daughter of the leader of the Russian Mafia.

Sara went on Instagram for a bit, but it was just a bunch of people being productive and it made her feel despondent, so she exited out of there. But it wasn’t like she would have been anymore productive locked in her room. So, really. Was this too bad?

It was past three when Alex finished her drink, standing up and sliding her phone into her pocket. She nodded at Sara to follow, and Sara grabbed her empty cup and followed. She dropped the plastic into the recycle bin right inside the door Alex held open for her. Alex returned her glass to the counter and they left the bakery, bell jingling cheerily behind them.

Alex climbed into the Jeep, sticking the key in the ignition and flipping the engine. Sara climbed in so she wouldn’t be left behind. She didn’t buckle, and Alex hadn’t either. Alex had already started to back out when she noticed Sara wasn’t buckled, and she slammed on the breaks. Sara jerked forward. Alex was glaring at her, and at the seat belt. Sara sighed and grabbed it, clicking it into place. Only then did Alex pull out of the bakery parking lot and onto the street. She went the opposite way than the way they had come, and Sara shot Alex a questioning look. Alex ignored her and kept driving.

After probably ten minutes of Alex’s insane driving they came up to a little park, with trees and a sidewalk around the perimeter. She swung into one of the parallel parking spots, putting the car into park before it was even stopped. Sara got the notion that there should have been an analogy linking the way Alex drove and the way she lived, but Sara couldn’t think of it.

Alex got out of the car and Sara did the same, and she also noticed that Alex never locked her car. Probably because all criminals in this city knew it, or because she didn’t have anything valuable in there. Probably the former. Alex just started to leisurely stroll down the sidewalk, and Sara assumed she was meant to do the same. She fell into step behind Alex, hands shoved in her pockets and head ducked slightly. Alex held her head high and her shoulders back, arms swinging. They deliberately didn’t touch Sara.

They walked around the park twice, enjoying the turning trees and the people milling about, some with dogs. Sara loved dogs, but her sister was allergic, which was why she had to steal Adam’s every once in awhile. She caught Alex looking at her as she watched a yellow lab play with a frisbee, and she flushed—when Alex looked at you, it was like she was looking right through you.

Alex sat on a park bench not far from where the dog was, and Sara had to admit she was a little out of breath. Around the trail once was probably about a half mile, which meant she had just walked a mile, which was about how far she’d walked collectively in the last year. She knew Alex could tell, but Alex didn’t say anything. Sara pulled her feet up on the bench and tucked her knees to her chest, wrapping her arms around them and resting her chin on her knees. Alex was sprawled out characteristically, like she knew she was the top of the food chain and she could take up as much space as she wanted. (Which she was, and she did.)

Alex looked back and forth between Sara and the dog twice, and asked, “Whose dog do you steal?”

“What?” Sara asked, looking away from the dog to make eye contact with Alex. She dropped her eyes after three seconds, training from her Etiquette Course kicking in.

( _ A Submissive should not make eye contact longer than three seconds to any Dominant other than the one they are contacted to. Eyes are cast downward or directed away _ .)

“Whose dog do you steal?” Alex repeated. Then she elaborated, “You’re staring at that dog. It’s not just somewhere to put your eyes; there’s genuine interest there. I can tell from the way you’re watching that you don’t have one, and based on your family—one that’s likely to have a dog—someone’s probably allergic. It’s not your father, because he works closely with the K-9 unit, so it’s either you mother or sister.” Alex paused.

“Sister,” Sara whispered.

“And since your sister is allergic,” Alex continued, emphasizing the word ‘sister’, “and you want a dog and can’t have one, you probably borrow someone’s. Everybody has a friend with a dog.”

Sara opened her mouth to say which friend, but Alex held up a finger. “Wait. Let me try.” She was still staring at Sara, but Sara was looking away. “You don’t really hang out with anyone outside your one group—I don’t count—so it has to be one of them. I know it’s not Hayden, because she only has a fish. Minerva is more of a cat person, and Roman doesn’t have any pets. Blue has a snake, which one wouldn’t expect from him, but it’s consistent with his character. So must be Adam. Either a Boxer or a Pit Bull. Am I right?”

“Spot on,” Sara confirmed. “Except for the breed. It’s an Australian Shepherd,” Sara corrected, feeling a little smug. In a way, she’d beaten Alex at her own game. But just barely.

Alex smiled, a small thing, and this was the most human Sara had ever seen her. She was so ethereal, all-knowing—but when you broke that down, she was just observant, good at reading people, and good at doing her homework on them, too. Not to mention her skills of induction and deduction. Alex was probably one of the smartest people on the planet. (But that was Sara’s somewhat biased opinion.)

“What’s my favorite food?” Sara asked, because she wanted to see how good Alex was.

“Just spitballing here,” Alex said, raising an eyebrow. Sara made three-second eye contact. “Dark chocolate mousse cake.”

Sara tried to contain her smile. This was almost fun. “Close. White chocolate mousse cake.” Alex snapped her fingers comically like people in old movies did when they got things wrong. A very human gesture.  _ Gods were people once, too _ .

“What’s my favorite book?” Sara asked. Three-second eye contact.

Alex’s face was blank when she spoke. “That’s impossible. There’re too many books in the world to pinpoint one book to one person.”

“But you could figure out my favorite food?” Sara tilted her head, kind of like dogs did.

“Food is easier.” Alex said. “People grow up with certain kinds of food. It’s easier to tell by looking at them what they like. Where they live also plays a factor. You like indulgence, though you don’t get it often. Mousse cake. Books are universal, even more so now because of the internet. Some people can read in more than one language, which broadens the spectrum. Foreign food, especially good foreign food, is difficult to find outside of its home country. Smaller playing field.”

This was probably the most Alex had ever spoken to her, and yet she still hadn’t shared any person information. “You’ve learned a lot of things about me. All I’ve learned about you is that you’re incredibly observant.” It was a general statement, and Sara didn’t look at Alex when she said it.

Alex caught Sara’s eyes, and wouldn’t let her go. After three seconds, Sara’s instincts started screaming  _ wrong wrong wrong _ but she couldn’t look away. Alex said, “You aren’t supposed to learn things about me,” and that was the end of that.

She didn’t speak again, but that was okay, because Alex had opened up to her. Just sitting in silence on that bench was enough to placate Sara. Neither of them pulled out their phones this time; it felt wrong to disrupt the serenity of the park. Sara closed her eyes for a bit and let herself doze off a bit to the sounds of the park. She felt safe around Alex. She had offered her her protection, and Sara knew she would follow through.

She opened her eyes again and checked her phone for the time, and nearly a half hour had passed. Alex was still sitting on the bench beside her, watching the motions of the park around them. She didn’t have her phone out, and maybe that said something about where Alex felt safe.

Sara yawned, stretched a bit, and rested her temple on her knees so she could stare at Alex while she watched the park. If you stared long enough, you could recognize Alex’s features as foreign. She looked American enough that you wouldn’t realize it at first, second, or even third glance. But the bridge of her nose was straighter than average, with a slight upturn at the end. The shape of her eyes was a little two round, the blue of her irises a little too white, the arch of her eyebrows a little too sharp. She didn’t look like she was from this world.

Objectively, she was beautiful, but here was some  _ otherness  _ to her features that made it hard to stare too long, lest you be cut. It was entrancing.

Alex’s eyes met hers again and they didn’t look away, but they weren’t looking at her either. They were staring at her irises, a perfect mix of blue and brown and green that most people called purple. It was a cool fluke of genetics, because in different light her eyes looked blue or brown or green. But in sunlight, or in really good lighting, you could see the lavender.

Sara also knew she was covered in freckles, and if you looked close enough, you could map the constellations. Orion was on her cheek. The entire northern hemisphere was on her right shoulder blade. (Thanks, Hayden.)

“Did you ever have to take orientation classes?” Sara asked suddenly, startling Alex out of her reverie. Alex’s eyes focused on her.

She seemed hesitant to answer, but she did, albeit dubiously. “No,” she said. Sara looked at her expectantly, and Alex continued, again dubiously. “I’ve always known I was a high level Dominant. It really didn’t matter, as long as I was one. I learned the Bratva playbook, not society’s. I can see when you’re following the rules that were trained into you, because the Submissives I deal with have either not learned them in the first place, or been reprogrammed.”

“Reprogrammed?” Sara asked, because it sounded a little ominous for the situation. She wanted to ask about ‘Bratva’ but she thought she had seen it on TV before, as another name for the Russian Mafia that mainly only the members used.

“Not what you think,” Alex answered. “Their training was undone, and they learned ours. That’s all. Nothing sinister.”

“Is your training all that different?” Sara asked, because she was genuinely curious.

Alex’s face grew hard abruptly. Sara realized she had asked something that was off limits, but Alex didn’t give her the time to backtrack. “I’m not at liberty to answer that,” she said, almost robotically, like it had been rehearsed for hours upon hours. “No asking about our policies.” Her tone was halfway to dominant, so Sara knew she meant it. Sara didn’t like this Alex as much as the other one.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, and it must have triggered something in Alex, because her face fell unexpectedly (as much as it could, because Alex’s expressions hardly ever changed from stone-cold-bitch or million-dollar-poker-face).

“Don’t apologize,” Alex said. Her wrist twitched like she was going to reach out but thought better of it. “It’s not your fault. You didn’t know.” And just like that, Sara’s Alex was back.

(When did she start to think of the warm, kind Alex as her Alex?)

“You’re a curious girl,” Alex said, looking at her almost quizzically. “That’s a good thing. Don’t lose that.”

(And now she was being a teenage philosopher again; Sara couldn’t deal with this girl.)

The sun had started to fall from the sky not long ago, and it was low enough now that streams of light broke through the branches and shone on the side of Alex’s face, making her smooth skin glimmer. Sara wondered if she looked that beautiful in the light, or if she just looked like her plain, old, boring self, American and unidentifiable.

Alex looked like she either wanted to reach out and touch Sara, or get up and run. Alex did neither of those things, because she was an extraordinary person with extraordinary self control. Sara looked down, so she didn’t have to look at Alex’s extraterrestrial face anymore, and looked at her legs instead.

Which may have been a mistake.

Alex’s thighs were practically bulging out of her jeans with muscle (looking like the perfect place to sit) so Sara moved on. To her knees. Knees were safe. The fabric over her kneecaps was lighter and worn, like she had worn these jeans a lot, or she purposely dragged her knees over a brick floor. The part of the pant leg over Alex’s shins and calves were looser (probably because she had to buy a size or two too big to fit those unbelievable thighs) (Sara didn’t want to be religious, but  _ damn _ , she’d worship those).

She could feel Alex scrutinizing her as well, but she couldn’t bring herself to care, because she was a little bit distracted right now. Alex was wearing old combat boots that still looked sturdy and reliable, like they were made out of the toughest leather known to man and she wore them every day. Her feet were turned out; open and in control of the situation.

Metaphorical, almost.

Sara checked the time on her phone: Almost six. Her mother would have already started dinner, with Sara’s help, probably. In about half an hour, Sara would set the table and get drinks for everybody, then her father and her sister would sit down and Sara and Margaret would serve them before they sat down and served themselves.

But Sara didn’t have to do that, because she had been sent to her room and snuck out like a normal insolent teenager to hang out with people she probably shouldn’t be hanging out with. And right now, her father couldn’t touch her.

Abruptly, Sara’s stomach growled, not quite loudly but close enough, and she was blushing before Alex could even look over at her.

“When was the last time you ate?” Alex asked.

Sara blushed harder. “Noon-ish,” she answered. “Technically, since I got sent to my room for the rest of the day, I’m not allowed to eat until breakfast tomorrow.”

Alex’s eyes sparked, and she spit, “Fuck that. Stand up.”

Sara did as she was told, only slightly shocked at the curse. Alex gave off the air of someone who cursed often, but she had been holding back for Sara’s sake, because even though Sara was in high school, her group of friends didn’t tend to curse much.

Alex prowled back to the Jeep, climbing in and slamming the door behind her. The engine roared to life and Sara ran to catch up, even though she knew Alex wouldn’t leave her there. She climbed in too, and Alex growled, “Buckle,” before sliding smoothly out of the parking spot and shooting down toward the main road. For a stick shift, and a Jeep, this car rode pretty smoothly. Only Alex’s driving made it not smooth. (Maybe those two things correlated.)

Within ten minutes, Alex was pulling into the parking lot of a run-down but cheery looking diner. Sara assumed it was more of Alex’s father’s territory, because Alex didn’t seem to go anywhere else. This door didn’t jingle when you walked through, it dinged, and Alex walked right up to the counter where a huge blond guy was standing with a pen tucked behind is hear.

Sara came up behind Alex, admittedly cowering a little. This guy was a strong Dom, and he also probably weighed three times what Sara did. Alex wasn’t afraid, probably because she knew the guy.

“What do you want?” Alex asked, though it was posed more as a statement than a question. Sara ordered a chicken salad sandwich and a lemonade, and Alex ordered ‘her usual’.

(Also, the guy wrote with a different pen than the one behind is ear? Maybe he forgot it was there?)

They sat down in one of the colorful booths, neon lights hanging over the table. That seemed to be all the diner was lit by. Alex was silent, and pulled out her phone again, typing rapidly like she was texting someone. Maybe she was. Sara wouldn’t know; she couldn’t see the screen from here, but Alex slid her phone back in her pocket before twenty seconds could pass.

“Does your father own this, too?” Sara asked, hands tucked between her thighs again.

Alex shook her head, and nodded toward behind the counter. “He does,” she said, and Sara didn’t think there were any other men in this place, so Alex must have been referring to the excessively large blond that took their orders.

And speak of the metaphorical devil, because the large blond guy came back out with their plates then. Sara got her chicken salad sandwich and lemonade, and Alex got large hunks of meat on five skewers and something that may have been bourbon, but Sara couldn’t be sure.

Sara dug in, because she was kind of starving, and she saw Alex do the same. Alex bit the hunks of meat from the side and slid them off the skewer (while getting absolutely nothing on her face), then chewed roughly. It once again emphasized the unnatural sharpness of her canines, but that was probably a conversation for another time.

Sara finished her meal first, so she wiped the corners of her mouth and set her napkin on a plate, sliding a clean napkin close to her and pulling a pen out of the condiments tray that was on the table (???). She gently doodled, because she was polite and didn’t want to rush Alex. She drew a mountain lion, and maybe that was a metaphor, too. She didn’t know.

By the time Sara looked up, Alex was finishing her last piece of meat, and watching Sara as she did it. (It kind of made Sara feel like the piece of meat, but she had a feeling that she’d be okay with that.) Sara blushed and set the pen down, tucking her hands in her lap again.

Alex took a deep breath before she spoke, maybe to force the piece of meat down, maybe to draw courage for what she was about to say, but Alex didn’t seem like the kind of person who needed to draw courage. “That’s really good,” she said, setting the long, sharp and pointy metal skewer down on her plate after licking the juices off.

“Thanks,” Sara said, still blushing. Alex was still staring at her in that unsettling way that made her want to talk, just like cops did. “I want to go to art school when I graduate. But dad thinks I should do something more ‘respectable’, like accounting or something.”

“And you can’t refuse,” Alex interpreted, “because they’re paying for your college.”

Sara sighed. “Yeah. And I’m almost out of sketchbook space, so I can’t even do that anymore.”

Alex stared a moment longer before changing the subject abruptly, asking, “You done?”

Sara looked down at her plate. “Yeah,” she said. Then, “Thanks. You didn’t have to do that. I would’ve been fine.”

“You shouldn’t have to just be ‘fine’,” Alex said. “You’re too skinny, anyway. Never survive a Russian winter.” Alex put a thick Russian accent on the last sentence that sounded so natural Sara didn’t even notice. It also kind of sounded like Alex was quoting someone, and making a joke at the same time. Sara got the feeling that she didn’t joke often.

Sara smiled politely, and slid out of the booth after Alex did. They walked out the door, Alex nodding at the Excessively Large Blond Guy (™) behind the counter. They drove across town erratically, Sara buckled and Alex not, to one of the little shopping markets that wasn’t frequented often.

Maybe Alex’s father owned this, too.

Alex parked and turned off the car, telling Sara to “Stay here” as she ran into one of the sparsely lit buildings. Sara waited in the darkened car, hands between her knees, staring at the store’s doors. Alex came back out not five minutes later, plastic bag in hand, and it almost looked, dare she say, domestic.

Alex climbed back in, not-so-subtly looking to make sure Sara was still buckled before tossing the bag in her lap and starting the car. It was dark out now, and Alex’s headlights turned on seemingly automatically as she maneuvered the way out of the parking lot.

Sara peeked in the bag. There was a sketchbook inside, thicker than any Sara had ever seen before, and with Van Gogh’s  _ Café Terrace at Night _ on both of the hard covers. Sara suppressed a gasp and asked, “Is this for me?” bewilderedly into the silence in the car.

“Yes,” Alex said simply, shrugging a little. This sketchbook would probably last her at least six months. Oh my God.

“Alex,” Sara said softly, and her brain supplied (not so helpfully) that it was the first time she’d said Alex’s name to her face.

Alex’s hand tensed a little bit on the gearshift, and she said, “Don’t mention it.”

They drove in silence the rest of the way back to Sara’s house, Alex focusing on the road and Sara admiring the gift; The Van Gogh on the covers, the unbent white of the pages and their texture, soft and silky yet firm.

Alex pulled into the small parking lot, only lit by the streetlamp. She put the car in park and flexed her hands on the wheel. They were both staring straight ahead, Alex with both hands on the wheel and Sara cradling the sketchbook to her chest.

“I think I like you,” Sara said to the darkness.

“You shouldn’t,” Alex replied. But after a moment, “I think I like you, too.”


	17. chapter 16

Sara slammed her binder shut a minute before the bell rang, shoving it in her backpack and looking over to Blue. He shot her a look back: their English teacher always gave them homework right before the bell. This time it was only a worksheet, and by some miracle of nature, Sara just barely got it done. She was supposed to meet up with Hayden so they could walk home together, so she walked with Blue down the hallway, the backs of their hands brushing slightly. He hugged her before he left, probably to meet up with Adam and make out behind the bleachers.

Hayden was leaning against the wall next to the cafeteria doors, backpack by her feet, when Sara pushed through the crowds toward her. Hayden smiled when she saw her, reaching out a hand for Sara to take. Sara smiled back and did.

They walked out of the school together, saying hi to their acquaintances and classmates. They walked out the front of the school, because it was faster to Sara’s house that way, even though it was farther from Hayden’s. It was only a little chilly outside, and Sara’s jacket was enough to keep her warm, but still Hayden pulled Sara to her side and wrapped an arm around her, resting atop her bulging backpack. Sara smiled a little and ducked her head, tucking her nose into the collar of her jacket. It may or may not have been a shameless attempt to get Hayden to hold her tighter. (It worked.)

Hayden walked slower as they passed the park on the way to Sara’s house, and Sara wasn’t surprised when Hayden redirected them toward the empty playground and they climbed up toward one of the top towers to huddle behind a maze on the wall, setting their backpacks beside them..

“There was actually something I wanted to talk to you about,” Hayden said, and Sara was relieved because she hated initiating conversation. Hayden took her hands and folded them together. “Your dad won’t be mad if you’re a little late, will he?”

The answer was probably yes, he would be, but Sara shook her head anyway. “There was actually something I wanted to talk to you about, too,” she said. “But you go first.”

“All right,” Hayden said. She hesitated before she said, “Is your father… good to you?”

Inside, Sara froze up, thinking  _ she knows she knows she knows _ ; but outside, she kept her face neutral, and furrowed her brow in confusion and curiosity after a moment.

“What do you mean?” she asked. Hayden squeezed her hands, and gave her a look that meant  _ I know you’re lying _ .

“You know what I mean,” Hayden said. “You can tell me. You trust me, right?”

And did that hit Sara in the gut. She never wanted any of her friends to think she didn’t trust them, least of all Hayden. She probably trusted Hayden the most out of any of them. And intellectually, she knew that Hayden knew that, but when they questioned it, Sara got insecure.

“Of course I trust you,” Sara said firmly. “You’re my best friend. I trust you more than anyone else in the world.”

“Then why won’t you tell me what’s going on with you?” Hayden asked, looking Sara in the eyes. “I know something’s up. You forget: I can read you like a book, love. You can’t hide things from me without me noticing.”

Sara didn’t say anything, hoping Hayden would come to some other conclusion. Hayden pushed on, though. “You show almost all the signs of someone being… abused. Sara.”

Sara didn’t know when she had looked away, but she could feel tears pushing at the corners of her eyes. No one was supposed to know. They weren’t supposed to find out.

“I’m right, aren’t I?” Hayden said gently. She put her arm around Sara’s shoulder and pulled Sara to her chest, moving her hand to the back of Sara’s neck. It was… comforting. “Why didn’t you tell me?” Hayden asked. She started rocking back and forth, like a mother would for a child. “You know I’m always here for you. Why didn’t you tell me?”

“You weren’t supposed to know,” Sara said, voice wet. “You can’t tell anyone,” she said, and now her voice were shaking. Her hands might’ve been, too. She didn’t know.

" It’s not bad,” Sara said. She may have been crying now. She didn’t know. “He just hits me, when I do something wrong, or when I’m not good enough. When I deserve it. It’s not that bad,” she reiterated. “I can take it.”

“Sara,” Hayden said. She pulled back so she could get both of her hands on Sara’s face, forcing her to meet her gaze. Sara squeezed her eyes shut. She didn’t want to see the disappointment there. Or even worse, the pity. “No, honey. That’s not how this works. You don’t deserve to get hit when you do something wrong. You deserve the help and attention you need to do it right. You should never be hit. You shouldn’t have to ‘take it’.”

Sara was openly crying right now. She jerked her head out of Hayden’s hands so she could tuck it under Hayden’s chin, and let Hayden cradle her to her chest. They sat there for a few long minutes, Sara crying and Hayden holding her and rocking. After a while, Sara calmed down, but Hayden still didn’t let her up.

“I’d ask if you wanted to stay over tonight,” Hayden said softly, “but I feel like you were lying when you said your dad wouldn’t be mad you were late.”

Sara nodded and choked on another sob, because she  _ really  _ wanted to stay with Hayden, but she also knew she had to get home.

They sat there until Sara’s complexion evened out, which took a little longer than she probably had time for, because Sara was incurably pale and freckled and took on color easily.

Hayden walked her the rest of the way home in silence, a supportive hand beneath her backpack slung on her back, and she let Sara tuck her face into Hayden’s shoulder to cover her nose from the cold.

Hayden let go of Sara on Sara’s porch, opening the (unlocked) front door for her but not going in. She left Sara with a kiss on the forehead and a mournfully affectionate look, and turned to go home.

She turned back around suddenly, tapping Sara’s backpack. “Wait,” she said. “I forgot. You wanted to talk to me about something, too.”

Sara turned toward Hayden and smiled ruefully. “It’s okay,” she said. “We can talk about it later. Promise.” Hayden leveled her with a skeptical look, but, at Sara’s reassuring one, she nodded, grabbing Sara’s hand and squeezing it. She turned and walked away, for real this time, and Sara already kind of missed her.

Sara closed the door behind her and bumped her forehead against the door once before turning around. Her father was waiting for her at the bottom of the stairs again, and Sara hitched her backpack farther up on her shoulders.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I had to stay late to finish up a project with Hayden.” It was a lie, but David accepted it, only glaring harshly at Sara before stepping aside to let her up to her room. Sara ducked her head and rushed past him, hoping he wouldn’t call her back for anything.

In her room, she sat down at her desk and settled in for a long night of homework.


	18. chapter 17

Alex groaned and rolled over, gathering her wits about her. It was Thursday, she was in her room, she woke up because James moved on the bed beside her, and her clock said it was eleven-o-two pm. Other stimuli registered, but they were unimportant, so Alex pushed them to the back of her mind. Her laptop was on her bed. She fell asleep while they were watching  _ Fight Club _ . James wasn’t wearing a stupid shirt again.

She pushed herself up onto her forearms, blinking blearily at James. He knew she wasn’t really tired anymore. He rolled onto his back beside her, letting her slip a hand over his exposed throat. She liked it when he was more vulnerable. James put a hand on hers on his throat and pushed down a little, and Alex squeezed until his eyes bugged out a little.

She let go. “Hey,” he greeted, but it sounded more like  _ you’re up _ . Not good, not bad, just a statement. Alex  _ was  _ up. And she was currently choking James until he was a little blue in the face, so he probably saw it as a good thing. Freak.

“Hey,” Alex grunted back, using the hand on his throat to push herself up. He jerked and choked at the sudden weight, but once she was up, she pulled her hand back and shook it out like touching him disgusted her. He appreciated the sentiment, she knew.

Alex stretched her arms above her head, t-shirt riding halfway up her stomach. She mutedly registered what she was wearing: A pair of James’s old jeans with a belt to keep them up, white crew socks, a sports bra, and a t-shirt from Paris that was much to small. She couldn’t remember when she had lost underwear, but she couldn’t really bring herself to care. James’s jeans were so old and worn that they were soft enough that she didn’t need any.

Her combat boots were resting at the end of the bed, neatly lined up and indicating that she had fallen asleep in them again and James had taken them off for her so she wouldn’t get her bed all dirty. She slipped them on again habitually; always prepared for a fight.

James sat up too, blanket falling from his chest and onto his thighs. He was only wearing camo boxer shorts, which Alex thought were ironic in some twisted way. She didn’t care enough to fully develop the analogy.

Alex sat back on the bed, resting against the headboard, and kicked her feet up on the bed. She rested her heavy boots on James’s shins, digging her heels in a bit and hoping he’d get bruises. That’d be nice for both of them. James started the movie over again without having to be told. He knew what she liked. It was nice to have someone she didn’t have to analyze her every action with. Especially when he wasn’t on payroll.

About half way through the movie, Alex heard her phone buzz from somewhere in the room, because she heard everything, and held out a hand. James sighed, but he didn’t want to make Alex angry, so he dug around in the oversized blanket until he produced Alex’s personal phone and placed it over exaggeratedly in her hand.

Alex tapped him fairly hard on the cheek with the back of her hand in thanks, and he caught her hand in one of his and kissed the knuckles before letting go and leaning back against the pillows, temple leaning against her hip and curling an arm under her thigh.

Alex checked her phone, and there was one text from an unknown number, but Alex knew who it was, because she had a talent for remembering numbers. The text read  _ Meet me at the park _ , and Alex stood abruptly.

“The fuck?” James grumbled, but it was more disgruntled than anything.

“I’m leaving,” Alex said, in a way of explanation.

“That’s atypical of you,” James said mildly, grabbing a pillow and hugging it to him in Alex’s place. Alex growled and lifted a foot to kick him in the ribs lightly. Or not so lightly.

“Fuck off,” Alex said, putting emphasis on ‘off’. She grabbed her leather jacket off the back of a chair, the one with the spider on the back. It was painted on in a shade of black so similar to the jacket that you could only see it if you were looking for it. There were little red streaks on the spider’s back, and it made the jacket look as if there were only two random red streaks on the back. Most people didn’t know what it was, but the Circle knew. And they knew to stay away.

“Who are you meeting?” James asked, having come to that conclusion in the time that Alex had told him to fuck off.

“None of your fucking business,” Alex said easily. She shrugged the jacket on.

“Have you ever thought why you’re meeting her?” James asked, probably having figured out who it was by now. Alex didn’t really associate with people outside the circle.

“You always think about the why,” Alex growled. “Fucking stop. You’re so goddamn annoying. You don’t have to analyze everything, especially not with me. Seriously.”

James just blinked at her, sitting up again but this time swinging his legs over the end of the bed. He didn’t stand up, probably because he knew Alex would push him back down if he did. He reached out a hand and let his knuckles brush Alex’s hip. Alex froze, almost imperceptibly, and took one step back toward James. His fingertips curled into her waistband.

“Alex,” he said gently. She let him pull her closer and nose up the edge of her jacket and edge of her t-shirt, and press a soft kiss to the skin above her bellybutton. It felt like an apology. “I can’t stop you,” he said, voice low, looking up at her. “But I can advise against getting too close.” He rested his chin against the buckle of her belt, fingers still in her waistband, other hand wrapping around her upper thigh below her buttock.

“You are so lucky you’re not still on payroll,” Alex said quietly, “otherwise I’d beat the shit out of you.”

James smiled, because he knew that meant Alex had taken his advice to heart. That didn’t mean she’d listen to it, it just meant she heard it. Alex pulled away, pushing James back down on the bed by his throat. He sprawled, not defending himself at all. He knew better. Alex left her room, closing the door behind her. She stomped down the stairs, not caring if she woke anyone. It’s not like they would stop her, anyway.

She took a sharp turn at the bottom of the stairs, heading away from the front doors and toward the back where the garage was. It wasn’t connected to the house, exactly, but there was a paved pathway and a roof on the way. She usually left her garage door open, just so she didn’t have to wait for it to open every time. She had the edge of the garage, where there was a two-car door and two cars behind them. Her father had the other end, with his two cars, and in the middle there was Nikolay’s car and a spare car, in case one of the goons needed one.

She dug her car keys out of her pocket, singling out the one to the Jeep. It was her personal car. The Camaro was her business car, mostly because it was faster and scarier than the Jeep. She climbed into the Jeep, sticking the key in the ignition and flipping the engine. She shot out of the garage, easily because all the cars were always backed in. By rule.

In the middle of the day with traffic, it took twenty seven minutes to get to the park by Sara’s house. In the middle of the night, with nearly no cars on the road, it took fourteen. The night was cold but Alex rolled the windows down as she sped down the road, turning up the Bulgarian rap that was blasting through her speaker system. She didn’t know Bulgarian, but it was fast and angry and she liked it.

She turned it down as she pulled into the park parking lot, though, because she got the feeling Sara wouldn’t like it, and she didn’t want to scare her. Sara was on the swings again, and Alex didn’t bother getting out of the car this time. Her headlights illuminated Sara’s tiny body as she walked toward her. She climbed in the Jeep and Alex recognized the familiarity in the motion, even though they had only done this a couple times.

Alex could see Sara shiver slightly, and she rolled up the windows. She checked to make sure Sara was buckled before speeding out of the parking lot. She did take a little more care going around turns, because she didn’t want to flip the car with Sara in it. The drive to the bakery was silent. It usually was.

At the bakery, Alex parallel parked across the prescribed parking spots, for easy get away. The bakery was closed, but Alex had keys, and she flipped on the lights behind the counter. Without asking, she made Sara a tea, even though it would probably keep her up. If Sara had called this late, she probably didn’t care about being up. She made herself a kale smoothie, because Sebastian would want her to, and even though they were disgusting they helped build muscle. She sat down at one of the tables, turning off most of the lights on her way.

Sara sat across from her, sipping delicately at her drink. Most things she did were delicate, because she was so fucking tiny. She couldn’t have been more than five-three, to Alex’s five-seven, and had a small stature, too. Her wrists were so small Alex could probably wrap her hand around them twice. Hypothetically, if hands could bend that way, of course. She was tiny and adorable in the way that a kitten was tiny and adorable, curious and wide-eyed.

Alex had always wanted a kitten.

And the fact that she was so fucking submissive, following Alex’s orders unthinkingly. God, she liked it when people did what she said, but most of the people she ordered around only listed because they had to, not because they wanted to. Besides James, of course, but he was a different matter. He listened because he had to, and because he wanted to. Alex always stood by the idea that he would make a wonderful Submissive if his genetics had been different.

Sara’s knees were pulled to her chest, like she usually did. She was a creature of habit. It was almost beautiful. Alex didn’t have the luxury of habit in her schedules. Habit in schedules meant people could learn them, and people learning schedules meant you could get killed. Her habits were indecipherable—wearing heavy boots. Watching  _ Fight Club _ . Paperwork.

And now, school. But she had been showing up late and leaving early recently, because her duties had been increasing with the increasing action in the Circle. They didn’t know who it was yet, but they would figure it out, and they would be subdued. She was getting less and less sleep, and being meaner and meaner to James, consequently. He didn’t mind, though.

But she liked this: Sitting in companionable silence with Sara, attention drawn to every movement, watching the way her lips wrapped around her straw, watching the way her head cocked to the side when she was thinking. Maybe she was getting too close.

Sara opened her mouth like she was about to talk, then changed her mind and closed it, then changed her mind again and said, “Hayden knows.”

There was no elaboration, so Alex stayed silent. She didn’t want to assume what Hayden knew, because if she offered one of her assumptions, she may give away information that Sara didn’t need to know. So she was quiet, and she waited for Sara to continue.

“About my father. She’s known about you since the first time you showed up at my house. She just found out about my father. First person, besides you.” Sara let out a breath, tucking her nose into her knees. “I tried to tell her it wasn’t that bad. That it didn’t matter. I don’t know why I did that.”

Alex wanted to offer advice, but most physical beatings she was associated with were delegated by or executed by her. She didn’t know what it was like from the other side, especially not when the recipient was innocent. Her recipients were never innocent. (Except James, but he was a different matter. He liked it.)

“I don’t know if things are going to change,” Sara said into her knees, “now that she knows. I don’t want them to. I don’t want her to treat me any different. I just want things to be okay.” She let out something akin to a sob, and Alex didn’t really know what to do.

“Listen,” she said. Sara peeked up at her, cautiously. “Things may not be okay, maybe not for a while. Your father beats you. That’s a fact. There’s not really anything you can do about it, right now. You could press charges, but your father’s a cop, and you don’t have enough proof. All you have is your word. And you’re a Submissive, not to mention the fact that you’re a minor, and a girl. It’s not likely anyone will listen to you without actual physical proof.”

Alex said, “The first step would be to get some. I can’t tell you how—that’s up to you. I can’t tell you that it’s all going to be okay, because that may not be true. All I can say is that you just have to push through it, because that’s how life works. We’re people. We’re resilient. We survive. That’s what you have to focus on first. First survive, then live.”

She saw a tear leak out of the corner of Sara’s eye. She wanted to reach out, to comfort her, but she didn’t know if she was allowed. (And what a thought that was; Alex not being allowed to do something. The words ‘not allowed’ had never been in her vocabulary before.)

Sara clutched her legs tighter to her chest, and said, “I’ll try.” And that was the best Alex could hope for.


	19. chapter 18

Sara showed up at Hayden’s around noon on Saturday. She had an overnight bag slung over her shoulder, but instead of having clothes and perhaps a sleeping bag in it, she had her sketchbook (the one Alex bought her), a pencil case, a book, and a small notebook. She had finished all her homework after school yesterday, so she hadn’t brought it, but she had no doubt that at least someone in the rest of her group would bring it to get help. Most of the time, their sleepovers just turned into study sessions, and when they were done, into The Sharing Of Very Personal Information. Sara loved it.

(Sara also knew that Hayden was trying to keep her away from home as long as possible, which was the main reason she, and her parents, had asked Sara to stay at Hayden’s house all weekend while Hayden’s parents were out of town. Sara’s parents had only barely agreed.)

She let herself in Hayden’s front door, because Hayden’s parents loved her and she didn’t need to knock anymore. Hayden’s parents were in the kitchen when she walked through, and Sara said hello, and made casual conversation. They were going out of town for the weekend, and wouldn’t be back until late Monday, and they felt more comfortable if Hayden wasn’t alone in the house the whole time, hence the sleepover. They trusted Hayden’s friends enough to leave them money for food and the keys to Hayden’s mother’s car, for emergencies.

Sara said goodbye and wished them fun on their trip as she walked up the stairs to Hayden’s room. The door was cracked, and it creaked when Sara pushed it open. She was a little baffled by all the junk that scattered the floor, because she had just been over not long ago, and it hadn’t been this bad. She almost didn’t see Hayden amongst the piles of clothes and books and plants. It was surprising she could even identify individual objects.

Hayden was surrounded by a pile of vaguely stacked books, like she had started cleaning up and had stopped to read one of them. There was a hamper half-full of clothes on the other side, but there were probably more clothes on the floor. Sara didn’t understand how Hayden could go through so many articles of clothing in one week. Hayden’s one week’s worth of clothes was Sara’s month’s worth of clothes.

Hayden didn’t bother greeting Sara, just pointed ambiguously toward the bed for Sara to drop her bag there. It was the only space in the room that wasn’t covered in something, and it was actually neatly made. Hayden’s desk was a mess, but that was normal, and Sara knew not to touch that. Her dresser had a pile of folded clothes on them, but there was a greasy bag of potato chips on top of that, so they probably needed to be washed again anyway.

Sara’s form of greeting was nudging Hayden with a foot and muttering, “Pig.” Hayden just waved her off, and lackadaisically threw a dirty t-shirt into her hamper. Sara wasn’t one to order others around much, if at all, but she knew how to clean well, and she wasn’t doing this thing by herself.

“Start with your clothes,” Sara instructed. “Those’ll be easiest, because they all need to be washed again. I’m surprised you even have anything to wear.”

“This is my last outfit,” Hayden muttered, beginning to gather up clothes and shove them in the hamper. Sara assisted, not bothered by grabbing piles of dirty undergarments from the bottom of Hayden’s closet because they had been friends so long. Soon, the hamper was overflowing but the floor was clean, finally.

Wordlessly, Sara took the hamper and dragged it downstairs, telling Hayden to put her books back on her shelves next. She carried the hamper down the stairs and into the laundry room, passing Hayden’s parents again on the way. They both made an offhanded-yet-pointed comment about how Sara would be a good influence on Hayden some day. Sara laughed and put the clothes in the washing machine, filling the little drawer with detergent and turning it on. She’d probably have to come back down to put it in the dryer after everyone else got here, and then again to hang it and bring it back up to Hayden’s room.

Sara ran back up to Hayden’s room, pleased to find all the books had been put back on the shelf. Next, she and Hayden picked up the random junk lying around Hayden’s floor, which too, much longer than it should have because they kept pausing to reminisce. It took nearly an hour, which was probably a new record. They didn’t really talk much, because they didn’t always need to. They still had an hour and a half until the rest of them came over, though.

Sara and Hayden saw Hayden’s parents off, hugs and kisses exchanged among the four of them. Hayden’s parents thanked Sara again for staying over, like they had when Sara had agreed to it. They all knew that Hayden wasn’t all that great at managing a house by herself.

Hayden’s parents had made them lunch, sandwiches and apple slices with peanut butter and lemonade. They made a game of it, trying to throw apple slices into each other’s mouths. Hayden caught the ones thrown to her almost the entire time, and Sara usually missed, but caught them with her hands and ate them anyway.

While they were doing the dishes, hips bumping amicably and comfortably, Hayden said, “What was it that you wanted to talk about on Tuesday? We’ve been so busy we haven’t had the chance.” Hayden’s hip bumped Sara’s as she passed her a dish to dry. Hayden’s parents had also left them the rest of the dishes to do, too.

“Oh,” Sara said. Part of her kind of wished Hayden had forgotten, but she also knew she had to talk about it with someone, and Hayden was the only one she really trusted enough with this. “It’s not really anything. It’s okay.”   


Hayden shot Sara a blank look. “I know what you’re doing,” she said. “Stop deflecting. Just tell me what it was you wanted to talk about and we’ll talk about it.”

Sara sighed and set her dish down. She grabbed the edges of the counter. “I like Alex,” she said. And then she elaborated, because Hayden might not know her first name, “Barnes.”

Hayden let out a long breath, and set her dishes down, too. “That’s probably not a good idea,” she said. “Why?”

Sara shrugged, turning so she could cross her arms and lean her lower back against the counter. “I dunno,” she said. “I just… do.”

“But how do you know?” Hayden pushed.

Sara paused. “I’ve gotten to know her. Unadvisable, I know, but it just kind of… happened. I like the person she is. She’s funny, and smart, and incredibly wise. She’s calculated and she can read me maybe even better than you, Hayden. And she’s so  _ dominant _ . Ugh.”

Hayden wrinkled her nose, but Sara continued anyway. “And she said she likes me, too.”

Hayden flicked one eyebrow up, the corners of her mouth turning down slightly. “You make bad decisions,” she said plainly.

Sara ducked her head and nodded in agreement. She pulled the towel off of her shoulder and slung it back over the oven handle, grabbing the dry plates and putting them back in the cabinet. Hayden followed her lead and put the cups away, and Sara got the silverware.

All the dishes were put away and Sara didn’t have anything to do with her hands anymore. She tucked them behind her back and leaned against the counter again.

“I need time to think about this,” Hayden said. Sara nodded. She’d let Hayden have time to think, even though this wasn’t really about her. Hayden needed the time to know how she was going to proceed, and what she was going to say to Sara. Sara understood. This was bigger than both of them, and maybe she shouldn’t have brought Hayden in on this, but she wanted her best friend with her. Somehow, she trusted Alex, but she still wanted Hayden.

“C’mon,” Hayden said. She reached out a hand, and Sara took it. “We’ll talk more later.” It seemed like they had been saying that a lot lately. “The others will be here soon.”

Two hours later, everyone was sprawled out in the living room, finishing off two large pizzas. Sara had her head on Hayden’s hip, hands resting on her overly-full stomach. Maybe she shouldn’t have eaten so much, but the pizza had just been so good, and the breadsticks had been otherworldly. Sara hardly ever got to eat pizza, because her father didn’t approve of it, so there’s a chance she may have gone a little overboard.

Adam, for his part, was still nibbling on a crust. He had probably eaten more than any of them, but he was a three sport athlete and an excessively-growing boy. Blue was laying on his chest, seemingly not caring that crumbs may be getting in his hair. They were all used to Adam’s strange eating habits at this point. Blue’s eyes were drooping, because whenever he ate more than a couple bites of something, he almost immediately fell into a food coma. It was almost adorable. Adam’s hand that wasn’t holding the pizza crust was resting on Blue’s back.

Roman was sitting below them on the floor, his back resting against the couch. One of his legs was drawn up and his arm was slung around it loosely. His other leg was stretched out. His head was resting against Adam’s bicep. Minerva’s head was on Roman’s thigh, and she had his other hand, studying the contours and protrusions. To be fair, Roman did have interesting hands. His fingers bent at odd angles and his knuckles bulged, with callouses everywhere.

Minerva’s legs were over one of Hayden’s, whose back was also against the couch, and Sara was resting on her other hip. It was all very comfortable, and very lethargic. The TV was playing something they’d all seen before. They weren’t talking, because they didn’t need to. It was nice. Sara needed some calm right now.

Hayden’s hand was in her hair, and Sara’s eyes were drooping. Her hand was resting above Hayden’s knee, the other tucked beneath her side. She was so warm and comfortable, with her favorite people surrounding her. She could fall asleep, if she wanted, but she didn’t want to, not yet. It was early, and she was sure all of their energies would pick up later, after they nursed their food babies. Adam would probably end up bench pressing either Sara or Blue later, because they were the two lightest and he would want to exercise all the food off.

But right now, Sara nuzzled her nose into Hayden’s leg, and if she could, she would have been purring. It would have been better if she had a blanket, but she didn’t want to get up to get one. She was too comfortable.

She must have drifted off for a while, because the next thing she knew, strong arms were lifting her and carrying her up stairs. She cracked her eyes open and saw everyone making their way upstairs, and in front of them, Adam was carrying Blue. Which meant Roman was carrying her. She could see that Blue was awake, because his arms were wrapped around Adam’s neck and they were whispering quietly to each other. Minerva was in front of them, and she opened the door to Hayden’s room. That must have meant Hayden was behind them.

Roman set Sara down on Hayden’s bed, and she curled up against Hayden’s pillow. She watched Adam pull out Hayden’s desk chair with a foot and sit with Blue in his lap. Hayden came in and closed the door behind her, and press a hand to the top of Blue’s head momentarily, then come over to sit by Sara. Sara replaced Hayden’s pillow with Hayden herself, and curled around her instead. Hayden, ever physically affectionate, curled her hand around the nape of Sara’s neck. Sara turned her head to kiss Hayden’s wrist.

Hayden smiled gently at her, then turned back toward the rest of the room to address the group. “Okay,” she said, loudly, to everyone. They all looked toward her. Minerva stopped fawning over one of the plants on the floor by the door, and Adam and Blue broke from an indulgent kiss to look over. Sara looked up at her adoringly.

“Now we’re gonna sit in a circle and gossip, and you have no choice in the matter. We’re going to share personal information, and we’re going to enjoy it.” Hayden waved her hands in an all-encompassing manner, and they all reluctantly came over in some semblance of a circle. Sara didn’t move, and Adam just picked Blue up and sat them back down the same way on the floor. Roman and Minerva actually made the circle a circle.

“Close enough,” Hayden muttered, but it was purposely loud enough that they all heard it. Sara snickered against Hayden’s hip. “Okay, whoever wants to volunteer, you can start first.”

“Oh!” Blue shouted. He turned around so his back was to Adam’s chest. “You guys are gonna love this,” he said. Adam must have figured out what he was going to say, because he groaned and hid his face behind Blue’s shoulder. “So, I convinced Adam to try some new stuff, and I just want to say, that it’s been great.”

Sara snickered, and no one said anything, because they knew Blue was going to continue anyway. “I had him tie me down the other night, and instead of doing something simple, he looked up this shibari-type stuff and, let me just say, it was incredible. Then he had me sit on his dick and it felt even  _ bigger  _ than usual—” Adam bumped his forehead against Blue’s shoulder and pinched his side, probably embarrassed and most likely blushing like crazy.

Blue ignored him. “—and you guys already know his dick’s huge, so this was  _ great _ ; I think I still may be a little sore.”

“She said  _ share  _ personal information,” Adam muttered. “Not overshare.”

“Shut up,” Blue sassed. “They know I’m obsessed with your dick, I don’t know why you’re embarrassed. It’s huge and I love it.”

“You’re going to be the death of me,” Adam told him.

“Your nine inch dick is going to be the death of me,” Blue countered.

After a moment, Hayden said faux-enthusiastically, “Alright! Great job. Who wants to go next? That’s tough to follow.”

Minerva shrugged, biting her nail, and offered, “I got an A on my Chem test.”

"But are we surprised?” Roman asked, tilting his head. Minerva punched him in the shoulder. Roman laughed and shoved her gently. He was always gentle. It was in his nature.

Sara loved the casual affection between all of them. Even with Adam and Blue caught in their own little bubble, she could feel it coming from them, too. She couldn’t get this anywhere else. Not with her family, and definitely not with Alex. It was a complete and total trust, but also love and adoration between the six of them. Suddenly affectionate, she nuzzled into Hayden’s hip, and reached out a foot and poked Roman in the shoulder.

Roman looked at her, smiled softly, and grabbed her foot with his left hand. Sara squeaked a little bit when he dug his thumbs into the bridge. He just did it again, because he was amazing and Sara loved him. Hayden’s hand was back in her hair, rubbing soothing circles behind her ear. God, she loved her friends.

“Aw,” Blue cooed, looking at Sara. “Lookit her; she’s like a kitten,” he said, wiggling his fingers. Adam’s head was resting on Blue’s shoulder, and his eyes were squinting at the corners like they did when he smiled. Sara blushed when everyone’s eyes snapped to her. Minerva and Hayden cooed simultaneously. Roman laughed quietly at them.

“Too bad she doesn’t have a Dom,” Adam said. “She’s a fucking perfect Sub. Maybe even better than you, babe.” The last part was directed at Blue, along with a playful pinch to his side. Blue laughed, and blew a kiss to Sara, just to make Adam jealous.

“Sara doesn’t hang out with anyone else,” Adam said. He tugged the sleeve of Blue’s shirt down and bit his shoulder, completely casual as if it was an everyday occurrence, and something you do in front of the rest of your friends. “If she had someone special, we would know.” Blue laughed, seemingly unaffected by Adam giving him a hickey.

Sara snorted into Hayden’s thigh. If only they knew. The only special person in her life was incredibly dangerous, and against better judgement, they liked each other. Sara really needed to make better choices, but here she was. God, she really needed to figure her life out.

But she could do that later, because Hayden’s hand was in her hair and Roman’s hands were on her foot and everything was warm and soft and draped in pastel. She kind of wanted to be asleep, but it also kind of felt like she already was. She also wanted to stay exactly like this forever, and never move again. She wished she didn’t have responsibilities for the rest of her life.

But tonight, she didn’t have any responsibilities, and she could stay like this for as long as she wanted. No one was going to make her move. She could stay here for the rest of the night.

Sara must have dozed for the rest of the conversation, lulled into a haze by the gentle hands on her body. She probably hadn’t missed much—if they had talked about something important, they would have woken her up. They all tried to be inclusive of each other, but they also knew how tired Sara was, and they knew to let her nap.

When Sara woke up again, it was dark out and everyone was asleep. She felt a pang of disappointment at not being able to spend time with her friends, but nobody had to go home at a specific time tomorrow, so she would have more chances. Sara sat up on Hayden’s bed, Hayden’s arm falling off of her hip. Sara was under the blanket, and her back had been pressed to Hayden’s chest. It was warm, and there was an indent in the sheets from Sara’s body, so she must have been there for a while. She ran a hand through her hair and breathed in.

She stood up, because she had to go to the bathroom, and nearly ran into Adam and Blue. With the low light from the moon coming in through the windows, she could see that they were curled together in a sleeping bag, Blue’s curly head tucked under Adam’s chin. The sleeping bag was pulled up to their chins, because Blue always got cold in the middle of the night, and Adam generated an incredible amount of heat. Sara knew from experience. Adam was kind of the teddy bear of the group, when Blue wasn’t attached to him.

Sara shuffled around them. She saw Minerva curled up near the desk, and Roman by the foot of the bed. He was snoring softly, but all of them were used to that by now. She didn’t bother to close the door to Hayden’s room behind her, because she was going to be back in a minute anyway. The bathroom was right next to Hayden’s room, and she stumbled in, not bothering to turn on the light.

Sara went through the motions slowly, because she was exhausted and this was the first time in a long while she felt comfortable enough to be drowsy. She let herself slip, let go of the constant alertness and need to know what was going on. She didn’t even feel that constant, underlying pressure to be good all the time, to please everyone. The tick was gone, like it only did when she was around their friends. She didn’t have to posture around them. She could just be herself, and relax for once in her life.

She washed her hands and went back into Hayden’s room, closing the door behind her. Avoiding the bodies on the floor, she made her way back to the bed, and to Hayden, who unconsciously wrapped herself back around Sara when she slipped back under the covers.

Sara could live with that: Being a little too warm and entirely too comfortable.


	20. chapter 19

Alex loved this part. Or, at least, she thought she did. She liked the papers scattered everywhere, and the voices trying to talk over each other. The lack of structure. She liked the chaos, but she didn’t like what was causing the chaos at this moment.

Fyodor had stumbled into the house nearly an hour ago. Frantic, he had explained.

The Italians were acting up. They had hit some of their lower warehouses on the wharf, nothing huge. All of the warehouses were inactive—just storage. There hadn’t been any robbing. Just instigating. They wanted a fight. They had hit five before escalating, and hitting one of the active warehouses. A few people had gotten hurt, which was a few too many, in this case. Things had been tense with the Italians for years, but no one had started anything.

Until now.

“They are not acting lightly,” Fyodor said, accent heavy. He may have been speaking Russian. “So we should not take it lightly.”

“I agree that this is not to be taken lightly,” Nikolay said. He was definitely speaking English. “But I do not think that we should act. It is premature.”

Alex saw Fyodor’s jaw tighten from the corner of her eye, and she could tell that he wanted to disagree, but everyone else in this room was his superior, and he had already spoken. Alex was lounging in the chair, and James was standing behind her with his hands on the back of the chair. She shot a glance at her father, who was sitting across from her behind the desk.

Fyodor was in the chair beside her, with Henry and Nikolay on either side. There was a guard outside the door. Everything felt heavy, with so many high-level Dominants in such close proximity. Alex was immune to it, at this point.

Joshua sighed. He thumbed his bottom lip pensively. His strict gaze snapped to Alex. She didn’t flinch. “Alex,” he addressed. He moved his hands to lace his fingers and rest them on the desk. “Your thoughts?”

Alex breathed out. She could feel James’s hands tense on the chair behind her. “I think we should retaliate,” she said, unintentionally in Russian. “We cannot tolerate this kind of antagonism. If we do not retaliate, we will look weak.”

Joshua was silent. He stared at her. Without looking away, he said, “Fyodor, you are dismissed. Thank you for the information, and for coming to us immediately.”

Fyodor nodded, and stood. He rapped on the door once, and it opened for him. Joshua didn’t speak until after it had been closed for thirty seconds.

“James?” he asked.

“I’m fairly neutral,” James answered. “But I favor Nikolay. I will side with him if we vote, but I would prefer to remain neutral at the moment.”

Joshua nodded. “Henry?” he asked.

“I would also like to remain neutral,” Henry said. “But if it comes to a vote, I will side with Alex.”

Joshua sighed almost imperceptibly. “We are undecided, and split down the middle,” he stated. He stood, and Alex did as well.

They made a semicircle around Joshua’s desk. Alex had the passing thought that they were an all-powerful ancient war council, advising an all-powerful ancient war leader. Maybe it was the Trojan war, and the Greeks were deciding to attack the Trojans. Joshua would be Agamemnon. Nikolay would be Odysseus. Henry would be Menelaus. James would be Diomedes. Alex would be Achilles.

(Maybe that meant Sara would be her Patroclus.)

Joshua said, “I will take my time to form a plan. Until then, we will not do anything. If possible, we will try to avoid unwarranted conflict. You will remain neutral outside of this room. If I hear anything from anyone, there will be consequences. Dismissed.”

He waved a disinterested hand, and they all shuffled out in a line. Any other time, Alex would have tried to step on the backs of Henry’s shoes, but this situation was too serious. She could feel her blood coursing through her veins. Maybe she was angry, but right now all she could feel was the thrumming of her blood, and the white noise in her ears.

She nearly stomped back up the stairs, and pushed open the exit door. Nikolay and Henry had wandered off into the dungeons, probably to do their daily check of the integrity of the doors. They didn’t have anyone down there right now, but Alex didn’t think it would stay that way for long. Not with the way things were heading.

Alex ran around the brick wall that separated the back yard and the entrance to the Bratva basement. She could hear James behind her. The back door was unlocked, and she left it open for James to close behind her. She pounded up the stairs and into her room. If she had been anyone else, she probably would have described this feeling as exhaustion. But Alex didn’t get exhausted. She barely got tired.

James caught up to her, and wrapped his arms around her waist. Alex was so tempted to flip him, but there was too much going on for him to be too seriously injured. So instead she put her hands on his arms, and dug her nails in. She walked over to the bed, not letting go of James and forcing him to awkwardly hobble behind her.

When her knees hit the bed, she let him go and turned around, shoving him down. He bounced once, and didn’t fight back when Alex crawled atop him, knees on his arms so he couldn’t move them. She was probably heavy on his chest, but she didn’t care.

“Why don’t you want to fight back?” she asked. She didn’t mean for it to come out angry, but it did anyway. James wouldn’t care.

“I want to avoid an unnecessary fight,” he said. “Three of ours have already been injured. That doesn’t need to happen to anyone else. The Italians haven’t always been the boldest. Maybe they’ll calm down if we wait them out.”

Alex didn’t say anything. She had probably picked that tick up from Joshua.

“You’re always looking for a fight,” James said. Somehow, even pinned on his back, he managed to convey power and intelligence and confidence. “Maybe you should play it safe for once. Don’t immediately throw yourself and everyone else into the fray.”

He paused, holding her gaze. His hands flexed, but he didn’t move. Quietly, he said, “You have someone to stay safe for now. How would Sara feel if you suddenly disappeared?”

Alex processed, quickly, and socked him across the jaw. Her fist impacted with a heavy, blunt sound, and James’s head snapped to the side. He didn’t say anything, just worked his jaw and looked back at her. That was going to bruise.

Alex released his arms, and sat back on his stomach. He flipped her over and hovered over her, not bothering to pin her at all. Alex groaned theatrically, shoving at his hips. “You’re getting heavy,” she said. “Skip dinner tonight.”

James grumbled but Alex knew he was going to obey, because disobeying Alex wasn’t even a passing thought in his mind.

But his words stuck with Alex. Maybe she meant more to Sara than Sara meant to her. She didn’t know how other people formed bonds. She knew she formed bonds very uniquely.

But maybe, without her knowing, she had formed a bond to Sara. Maybe Sara meant more to her if she realized. She didn’t want to think about it.


	21. chapter 20

Sara opened her front door quietly, hoping her family wouldn’t notice her. She peeked her head inside first, then the rest of her body, when she was sure the coast was clear. She took the same care in closing the door that she did opening it, and snuck up the stairs without taking off her shoes or coat or backpack. After depositing them in her room, she went back downstairs.

Her mother was in the kitchen, cleaning up something that she had probably baked. She looked up at Sara and smiled, scooping crumbs into her open palm. “How was your day?” she asked Sara, dumping the crumbs into the garbage can.

“It was fine,” Sara said, “but I have a lot of homework, and I really need to focus…”

“That’s fine, sweetie,” Margaret said. “We’ll leave you alone until dinner.”

Sara smiled and nodded, thanking her mother, and retreated back up to her room. She flopped backward on the bed, exhausted. Unreasonably, because today at school had been easy, and her friends had been really kind and supportive, and by some kind of teacher-telepathy she hadn’t gotten homework in any of her classes today.

But still, unreasonably, she was exhausted. She wanted to sleep for five years and never wake up again. She hadn’t even had the time to get off recently, because Harley’s soccer schedule had changed, and now she was never home alone. That alone made her stressed, on top of all the classwork she usually got, and the whole thing with Alex, and the other whole thing with her father. (Though, that really shouldn’t make her any more stressed than usual, because that seemed to be the one constant in her life. She had the bruises right now to prove it.)

She rolled over, grabbing her pillow and cuddling it to her chest. The sun was high enough in the sky that it didn’t blind her through her window, which was considerate. The plants on her windowsill gazed cheerfully back at her, and she really couldn’t bring herself to be upset. The three in the front had been gifts from Minerva, named Harry, Ron, and Hermione. Minerva had been the one who got her into  _ Harry Potter _ , so it was only appropriate to name them that.

Sara’s phone buzzed in her back pocket and she checked it, but it was only a text from Hayden telling Sara that she loved her. Hayden sent her those multiple times per day, so Sara didn’t bother to respond. She scrolled through Instagram mindlessly, liking her friends’ pictures. There was one of Adam and Blue being adorable, but Sara didn’t comment on it because it just reminded her that she was single.

But at the same time, it felt wrong to pursue any relationships or potential relationships, because of Alex. She didn’t know what they were to each other, and she was too afraid to ask, but she didn’t want to break any unspoken rules. They hadn’t signed a contract and Alex hadn’t said anything indicating that she intended to, but still. Sara was hesitant.

Speaking of Alex, though. Sara hadn’t seen her since last Thursday, almost a week ago, and she inexplicably missed her. She didn’t know what kind of bond she’d formed with Alex, but it seemed to be rather strong. At least, on Sara’s end. She didn’t know how Alex formed bonds with people, or if she’d even formed one with Sara. She may not even really care about Sara.

(But, Sara knew that wasn’t true, because Alex had explicitly told her she liked her.)

Sara flipped her phone in her hand a couple of times, debating. Her father would probably expect her back by dinner. She didn’t have very long before that. But she really didn’t want to be here right now, and she didn’t really have any other way to get out. If she went to Hayden, Hayden’s parents would get involved, which meant Sara’s parents would get involved, and they would undoubtedly say no to her leaving the house at all today. Which would suck.

Downstairs, Sara heard the front door slam closed and she groaned internally. Hugging her pillow tighter to her chest, she let a small whimper slip. Her dad was home. She really didn’t want to have to deal with that right now, and there was really no other way out. She didn’t have a car, or a license, and if she snuck out she wouldn’t be able to get very far.

That really left her no other choice than to call Alex. She flipped her phone in her hand again, and unlocked it. She opened her messages and scrolled to the bottom. All of the messages were from her, the same thing each time.  _ Meet me at the park _ . Sara sent it again, and sat up, releasing her pillow and pulling on her shoes. She grabbed her coat and shrugged it on, sneaking into the bathroom. It wasn’t outrageous that she would take a break from homework to go to the bathroom, but it was implausible that she wouldn’t come back, which is why she had to be quiet.

Sara shimmed open the window and climbed out, hooking her feet into the lattice. She closed the window behind her, hoping no one would notice that it wasn’t locked anymore. But the only person who used that bathroom beside Sara herself was Harley, and she was about as observant as a piece of brick. Sara would probably be fine.

She made her way down the lattice, sarcastically impressed at her athletic abilities. The first time she had done this her thighs had been sore afterword, which really said a lot about her actual athletic abilities. But she had started doing this more often now, and she had gained the subtle musculature that it was required. (That was really the only musculature she had, though, because every other kind of exercise was still just as difficult.)

Sara followed the specific path that was directly out of all lines of sight, and walked around the block to the park. Alex’s Jeep was pulling into the parking lot when she got there. Sara broke into a run to get to the Jeep, and pulled the door open, hopping in. If was anyone else she probably would have had the decency to at least look surprised, but she was Alex, so she didn’t look like anything. She just made sure Sara was buckled, threw the car in reverse, and sped out of the parking lot. Sara was almost used to her driving at this point.

They drove to the bakery in silence, like usual. (And it was strange, that they had a  _ usual  _ now.) Sara kind of wished she had her pillow to hold on to, but she knew it was good for her to get out of the house. Even if she was lying to her parents and would probably get in trouble for not being home in time for dinner.

Alex parked the car haphazardly and Sara slid out without being prompted. Alex didn’t hold the bakery door open for her, but Sara was coming to understand who Alex was, and she didn’t think Alex would be the type of person to hold the door open for anyone. Alex sat down at their usual ( _ usual _ ) table without stopping at the counter, but it didn’t matter because the brunet guy who was always her brought their drinks out anyway. Sara thanked him; Alex tapped the tip of her finger on the table in a short pattern. It must have meant something.

Sara made it halfway through her drink before she spoke. Alex hadn’t looked at her yet, but Sara was gathering that it took Alex a while to warm up with people, even after some of the things that had happened between them. Sara didn’t know if Alex would ever be totally comfortable with her, and she didn’t know if she could live with that.

“Why did you get sent to high school, anyway?” Sara asked, without a preamble. She could tell that Alex wouldn’t go to high school voluntarily, and Alex might have even said it, once. Sara had been curious for a while, but she had never bothered to mention it, or even think about it extensively. Some of the scenarios she may have dreamt up could have been more outrageous than what actually happened, and she didn’t want to form some kind of undeserved bias. She wanted to take Alex at her word, and be able to believe what she said.

(But Alex never seemed to lie, at least no to her. She didn’t offer information, but she answered questions, when asked. Sara had never known anyone like that.)

Alex leveled Sara with her heavy blue gaze. She leaned back in her seat, and Sara could tell how her legs sprawled beneath the table without needing to see it. One of her arms was farther back than the other, and the hand of the closer arm was resting on her mid-thigh. If Sara knew anything about psychology and body language and posture, this would probably mean something. But sadly she didn’t, and she had no idea what it meant.

Alex took in a deep breath. “One of my assignments,” she started, words slow and deliberate, “was to blow up this building. The preliminary check showed it clear of civvies.” Alex stopped, looked out the window, and tapped her fingers against her thigh. “I neglected to do a final check. I didn’t know for sure if there were no civilians in the building, but I blew it anyway. Going to high school is my punishment.”

Alex looked at Sara gauging her reaction. Sara did her best to keep her face neutral, but she probably didn’t succeed. She’d never been too skilled at that.

Alex remembered that mission vividly. She’d say it was the day everything had gone to shit, but she knew it could have been worse, and it was probably going to be worse at some point. That mission hadn’t even been the worst on record. It had just had the most collateral damage, which was usually meant to be avoided at all costs. But because Alex had fucked up, things had gone wrong, and she been appropriately punished for it.

It was her fault there hadn’t been a final check, because it had been her mission and therefore her responsibility. Wrongly, she had trusted the tech who had done the preliminary check. He was also at fault, but not as much as Alex. All he had gotten was a beating, and he was already almost healed. Whereas Alex still had to go to school and interact with more civilians.

The punishment was almost ironic, though, because after the incident she hadn’t even wanted to speak of civvies, let alone be around them for seven hours a day, five days a week. She had berated herself greatly, afterward, and even James hadn’t been able to pull her out of her moping. She got that way sometimes. But now she was getting better, spending time around civilians. She accepted that the incident was her fault and owned up to it, and was now paying the price. It was atonement, for breaking one of the Bratva rules. Alex accepted that.

Sara was staring at her, with her hands tucked together over her drink. Alex could see the individual freckles along her fingers. She wanted to trace them, to connect them in the constellations she had studied as a kid. The stars had always fascinated her.

And it was the moment that Alex decided to reach out when everything went to shit.

The window behind them blew out, glass flying and flames licking at the edges. Instinctively, Alex dove for Sara, covering her with her own body. Alex didn’t hear the explosion, and she didn’t know if that was because it had deafened her, or because she was so accustomed to it that she could block it out.

Many things happened at once. Glass shattered, the window blew, Sara screamed, Alex covered her. Heavy footsteps sounded all over, and Alex waited until the heat from the flames was gone before looking up. The entire floor was full of dark boots. She couldn’t identify her own men in the chaos.

(How had she ever said she loved this?)

Alex felt Sara trembling beneath her, the rumble of feet on the tile floor, the heat from the fire licking at her back. She felt small shards of glass imbedded in her leather jacket, and praised her past self for making it bulletproof.

Alex saw her men burst in the front door, kicking it open so hard it shattered. She saw Oliver behind the counter, tucking Sebastian behind his back and walking backward into the back. He had a gun leveled at the unknown enemy.

(But it wasn’t hard to guess who they were—the Italians had been unsettled for weeks, and she could recognize the way they moved, the discoordination, the lack of a team effort. She’d never let her men move like that.)

She heard Oliver shout over the noise. He told her to protect Sara. Alex knew what that meant. She also knew it would be incredibly difficult to get Sara across the bakery, through the men with the guns.

It had only been three seconds since the window blew.

Alex pulled her gun out of her side holster, immediately shooting the Italian closest to her. Sara screamed again, or she had been screaming the entire time. Alex needed to get her to safety. She needed a clear path.

James appeared in front of her, gun held tightly and pointed at the enemy. Alex stood, dragging Sara with her and holding Sara tight to her back. She and James moved like a well-oiled machine, only taking three steps to move in a position that would better protect Sara. James’s back pressed to Sara’s, sandwiching Sara between them. She could feel Sara clutching at the sides of her jacket, could feel her forehead pressing into Alex’s shoulders. She didn’t want to see. Alex understood.

They moved around the edge toward the back, with one of their sides protected. She could feel how hard and unforgiving her face was, and she knew how much Sara would hate that expression. That didn’t matter right now, because her main objective was keeping Sara safe. She fired her gun as many times as she needed to, not worry about emptying the clip because she hadn another. She could feel the recoil of James’s gun through their connected bodies, and knew that he had her six, always.

They made it behind the counter, and Alex dropped down, Sara with her. James stayed standing, and covered them as they shuffled into the kitchen. There was a freezer back there that wasn’t a freezer at all, but instead a bulletproof room. It was where she knew Sebastian was, because he had been trained by the Bratva on what to do in emergencies. He knew the drill. Sara didn’t and she needed protection.

Alex pulled open the door and pushed Sara inside, slamming it after her. James fired his gun, and Alex knew his eyes squinted when he did, because that was his tick. She wished she had time to comfort Sara, but she would have to trust Sebastian to do that, because almost forty seconds had gone by and she needed to get back out there.

She ducked behind the counter again, and meticulously picked off Italians with clean bullet wounds to the temple. It must have only been five minutes before it was over, but time wasn’t linear at these points, but circular. It was hard to tell who had won, objectively. There was blood shed from both sides, and Alex recognized one of her men on the ground. It was a loss, but it seemed to be the only one on their side.

All of the Italians, though, were on the floor. At least, the couple that hadn’t gotten away. It had been a calculated risk, letting them go, but the news needed to make it back to their boss. Alex let one of them run about five hundred feet before picking him off with her pistol, prompting the other one to run faster. One was all they needed, out of the twenty that had shown.

The bakery was a mess, with blood spattered all over the walls and the floor covered in bodies. It had been eight minutes now, and her men were already beginning to clean and pile the bodies, just like they had been trained. She could see the near-imperceptible slump of their shoulders at their fallen brother. Her team was tightly knit, and they wouldn’t bode well to losing one of their own. It would inspire them to fight back harder.

But despite Alex’s loss and her team’s loss, they had won. One to twenty was not a bad ratio. Alex put her gun away and flicked her wrist, indicating to her third that he should call the clean-up crew. He nodded solemnly, and did as instructed.

Oliver came over to her, wisely not touching her. He and Alex headed to the back, and James was still on high alert, not having put his gun away yet. She opened the faux-freezer door, and she didn’t speak, because she wasn’t sure it would be English.

Sara was shaking. She could feel the tremors wracking her body, but she could actually feel her body. There were hands hovering near her shoulder and knee, and it brought her back to herself, if only a little bit.

“You’re safe in here,” the brunet man was saying, the one who always served her drinks at the bakery. Everything before this room was fuzzy and filled with unidentified terror.

Sara uncurled a little bit, and removed her hands from her ears to wrapped around the legs pressed to her chest. The ‘she was safe in here’ room was well decorated, for being a safe room. Probably bulletproof, and that was why Alex had put her here. She was sitting on a plush, comfortable couch, and there was and identical one on the opposite wall. A coffee table was between the couches, and a plush rug covered the entire floor. The light overhead wasn’t harsh like usually freezer light, but rather soft and bright at the same time.

She believed she was safe here.

Refusing to uncurl, she looked up at the brunet. “I’m Sebastian,” he said. He looked at his hands, still hovering over Sara’s shoulder and knee, and Sara nodded her consent. Sebastian’s hands landed on her, and it almost quieted the trembling of her body. Sara thrived off touch, and Sebastian’s hand were large and warm and nonthreatening. Sara let herself be pulled into his side, because he seemed like a trustworthy person and Sara honestly needed the comfort.

The room must have been soundproof, too, because Sara couldn’t hear anything but the quiet foreign music playing through a speaker on the coffee table. Sebastian was comforting, as much as another Sub could be, making soft shushing noises and rocking slightly. Sara didn’t know how long it lasted.

There was a complicated series of knocks on the windowless steel door. Even the warmth of the room inside couldn’t counter the cold depersonalization of the steel door. Sebastian stood, leaving Sara’s left side cold, to unlock the door from the inside. It swung out, but it locked from the inside. The door pulled open, and Alex and the large blond guy Sara had seen at the diner Alex had taken her to were in the doorway.

The large blond guy scooped Sebastian into his arms, and Alex came toward Sara, sitting next to her on the couch. “Are you okay?” Alex asked, and Sara shrugged. Alex held her arms open questioningly, and Sara fell into them. She was glad that Alex had given her permission to touch. Alex’s hold was warm and dominant, and utterly comforting. If Sara thought she had felt safe in Alex’s presence, it was nothing compared to actually being in Alex’s arms.

Sara hadn’t cried yet, but she wanted to now. Everything caught up to her and it started to bubble over. Alex didn’t offer any words or sounds of comfort like Sebastian had. Instead, touched Sara’s cheek and said, “We don’t have time for that. You can cry later. Right now, we need to get out of here.” Her tone was soft, despite the content.

Sara nodded and let Alex hoist her up and she kind of wished she had a blanket to wrap around herself, but Alex’s arms would have to do. They walked out of the back and were suddenly flanked with almost a dozen people. Sara didn’t know where they’d come from, but she assumed they’d been here for a while, based on the bloodstains on all of their clothes. They were all men, and all Dominants, and Sara was glad Alex was holding her.

Alex helped her into the Jeep, and buckled the seatbelt for her. All the other people scattered to cars around the bakery, and Sara recognized the black Camaro that Alex took to school, but she didn’t recognize the muscular black man walking toward it and climbing in, revving the engine like it was some kind of battle cry.

Other engines around it responded. Maybe it was their battle cry. Sara saw another blond guy that kind of looked like her history teacher, Mr. Kashnakov, but dismissed the idea when the car pulled away. There was a line of large black SUV’s lining up on the road, leaving space for two cars before the intersection. Alex pulled into the first space, and Sara saw the Camaro pull into the space behind it.

Suddenly, Sara realized it was a hierarchy, and Alex was on top. Which meant Sara was on top, too. The Camaro was behind them, so Sara assumed the guy in it was second. Behind that was the car that held the Mr. Kashnakov-lookalike, and last was a different car that Sara wasn’t able to identify, but she could see Sebastian and the large blond from the diner in it. Between them and the Camaro were two identical cars, with four mean-looking men dressed in black in each.

Hierarchy.

The Jeep sped off before the light turned green, and cars in the other lanes had to screech to a halt to avoid accidents. Sara assumed this was how Alex normally drove, with how comfortable she looked doing it. She threw the car between gears effortlessly and took corners without worry, and Sara did her best to hold on. The cars behind them followed easily.

They drove for miles upon miles, a trip that probably should have taken upwards of half an hour but only took fifteen minutes before they were speeding down a long driveway on the side of a red brick mansion. Sara stared, unable to comprehend entirely what was happening.

The cars stopped suddenly, thrown into park before they even stopped. They made a perfect line, one that only came from years of training and experience. Alex hopped out of the Jeep, coming around to Sara’s side to help her out before Sara even moved. By the time Sara’s feet were solidly on the ground, the rest of the people in the cars were already lined up, feet shoulder width apart and arms crossed behind their backs. It was surreal.

Sara didn’t have time to study the faces in the line before Alex waved her hand. “Disperse,” she said, voice firm—an order. “Guard.”

Seven of the eight identically dressed men broke off, and scattered around the property. Alex started down a brick path through the grass. Her arm wrapped around Sara. Behind them, Sara could hear footsteps, and she assumed it was the rest of them.

There was a door on the side of the tower in the house, which was honestly astonishing itself. This house looked like a red brick Colonial castle, and Sara was a little bit intimidated. Alex knocked on the door in the same pattern that she had used on the faux-freezer door back at the baker, and the door opened outward here, too. Inside was a room with floor to ceiling yellow striped wallpaper that made your eyes hurt if you looked at it too long. There was nothing in the room but a set of stairs, which Alex descended, and Sara had no choice but to follow.

Down the stairs, everything was made of red brick, and Sara got the strangest impression that she’d seen this brick hallway before, with the menacing medieval-looking doors interspaced along the walls and the creepy chandeliers made of only leather straps and heavy iron.

At the base of the stairs, they took a sharp left turn, through an open door, and into another hallway with yellow stripes. There was another left turn, and red chairs along the wall, and another open door.

Alex gently pushed Sara into one of the chairs on the edge. She knelt down beside her, and the black guy behind Alex shifted uncomfortably. “Stay here,” Alex said. She shrugged off her jacket and slung it around Sara’s shoulders. “I’ll be back. I promise.” Alex stood, and Sara got an up-close view of her toned arms as they passed her face.

Sebastian dropped down into the chair next to her, preening at the large blond man’s hand on his head. He looked up, whispered something that Sara didn’t hear, and the large blond man pulled his hand away. Sara looked to Alex, who rolled her shoulders and lifted her chin up, and walked through the open door in front of her. The black man followed her, then the large blond guy, then someone who was almost definitely Mr. Kashnakov.

Sara wanted to gasp, but that seemed like it would be a little overdramatic, at this point. Instead, she kept her surprise and panic internal, because her  _ history teacher was part of the Russian Mafia _ . (But, this did explain why he was so weird, and his connection to Alex, and why he knew so much about Russian history.)

A thunder of voices rose up from inside the room, and Sara couldn’t understand most of it. The majority was in Russian, she assumed, and the rest was heavily accented English. Sara leaned forward to see what was going on, but she only saw Mr. Kashnakov talking loudly with a heavy accent before Sebastian’s hand landed on her shoulder and pulled her back.

“We’re not allowed to know Bratva business,” he informed her. “Submissives are not allowed to be members, and are only allowed to be connected through marriage.” He reached for his neck, and pulled a chain with a gold ring on it from beneath his shirt. “You’re the exception, I guess,” he said.

 

Alex sighed and ran a hand through her hair. They had been at this for nearly two hours, and Sara was still waiting on the chairs in the hall with Sebastian. They had debriefed, they had planned their retaliation, and now they were just summarizing and hashing out details that had already been decided. She wanted to get back to Sara.

Joshua stood up, and Alex turned to leave, but she felt a hand near her bicep. Everyone knew not to touch her without her knowing, and have learned that just hovering their hands is sufficient enough. Alex turned, coming face to face with Oliver. He was taller than her, but she didn’t have to look up to meet his gaze. Instead, he lowered himself differentially.

“May I speak with you?” he asked. Smartly, he did not address her, because Alex felt that if someone addressed her by name right now she might kick them in the face. That could have just been the leftover adrenaline from the fight, but Alex would follow through nonetheless.

“Sure,” she agreed, because it was close enough to off-the-clock that she was tired of being formal.

“May I speak freely?” Oliver asked, backing up so he was in the corner, away from the crowd. Alex followed him.

“You may,” she answered, because like she said, she was tired of formalities.

“I feel the need to warn you,” he said. “The Italian who got away… he may have seen your girl’s face. If he had, that may be dangerous for her.”

Alex didn’t change her expression from blankly neutral, and Oliver continued speaking.

“I don’t mean to be out of line,” he said, “but your father will probably be having this same talk with you later, and you should be prepared.

“I had to go through the same thing when I brought in Sebastian,” he said. “But this is a different scale. Now that Sara’s known to the Italians, you’ll have to protect her.  You never know what they’ll do, and they could probably tell she can’t defend herself, with the way you rushed her to the room.”

“Your point?” Alex asked. In a way, she appreciated the information and warning Oliver had given her. She liked to know what was going on, that way she could control it. But she wanted to know the bottom line, so she could get back to Sara.

“You are still receiving your punishment,” he said. “Going to high school. You will be told to continue your schooling, but your will have a new objective: Protect Sara. That means not leaving her side for seven hours a day, and handpicking a tail to protect her when you can’t.”

Alex nodded succinctly. “Thank you,” she said.

The men started shuffling out of the office, Oliver and James included, and Alex was about to follow them when her father said her name.

“Alex,” he called, and Alex suppressed a groan. “We must speak.”

“Yes, sir,” Alex agreed, trying to keep the irritation out of her voice. “I believe I know what this is about.”

Joshua mostly ignored her. “An unapproved civilian was involved in Bratva business,” he said, placing a hand on his desk and walking around it.

“I know, sir,” Alex said. “I’m to protect her at school, and handpick a tail for when I can’t be there.”

Her father gave her a strange look. “You know I do not like it when you take words out of my mouth,” he said. “It makes me feel like I have no purpose here anymore.” The words were heavy but his tone was almost playful, but only as playful as Joshua could get. “But that is not all I wanted to talk to you about,” he continued. “I was going to say; I know what your feelings are toward this girl, and I do not want you to make any rash decisions because of them.”

“Sir,” Alex said, and she let a small sigh slip through. “It’s too late for that.”

Her father stared at her, and Alex could see the laughter in his eyes. He was not an expressive man, but Alex had learned how to read him. He sat back on his desk, resting against his haunches, and crossed his fingers in front of him. It wasn’t the usual Bratva body language he displayed. It was almost something similar to fatherly.

“I really like this girl, Father,” she said, and the change in honorifics really changed the entire conversation. “I don’t know what to do, because I don’t want to pull her from her life. She has friends and people who love her and would miss her. But also,” she added, “her father beats her. I don’t want her to have to go through that anymore.”

“I do not have advice for this situation,” Joshua said. It was unlike him to admit defeat. “All I can tell you is to use your best judgement. What Oliver warned you about is exactly what I was going to tell you originally, so you should begin vetting people for this girl’s tail.”

Alex nodded. She felt an uncharacteristic surge of affection for her father. He may have been an objectively bad person, but he wasn’t that bad at being a father.

Sara was still sitting in the hallway. Her knees were tucked to her chest and her arms were wrapped around them, and James was sitting a chair away from her. Alex bristled at that, because James wasn’t exactly the least intimidating person if you didn’t know him, and Sara was scared. She didn’t need to feel threatened by anything else today.

“Stand up,” Alex said, in Russian so only James would understand. He looked up at her and stood. Again in Russian, Alex said, “Stay here. I’ll be back.”

James’s eye twitched to his left like he was going to look at Sara, then thought better of it. “That’s unwise,” he replied. Based on the look on Sara’s face, they were still speaking in Russian. James’s arms hung by his side, and his fingers twitched. Alex’s eyes were drawn to the movement, and she could see that Sara’s were, too.

If Alex was a cat, the hair on her spine would have stood. James was still on the clock. Careful to make sure Sara wouldn’t be able to understand her, she said, “Stay the fuck here or I’ll break you.” Her tone wasn’t particularly angry, because she didn’t want to scare Sara, but James got the message. He nodded, once, and turned and left.

Alex knelt in front of Sara. Any psychologist would have a field day with Alex on any given day, but she felt that this action would be extremely overanalyzed, especially in their society. She didn’t care. “Are you okay?” she asked.

Sara dropped her knees and rested her toes on the floor. “I don’t know,” she answered honestly. Alex wanted to reach out, but she didn’t want to startle Sara.

“I’m gonna take you home,” she said. Sara nodded, and Alex stood. Sara looked up at her, the corners of her eyes pinching. Alex reached a hand down and Sara took it, and Alex tucked her under her arm. Sara turned her head and buried her nose in Alex’s shoulder, squeezing her eyes shut. Alex let her, leading them out of the basement slowly. Bratva business could be scary, she understood, especially to someone who wasn’t part of the Circle.

Sara kept her eyes closed until they were outside. The Camaro was gone; James had probably parked it in the garage. Alex saw her team still scattered around the property, and she raised a hand with two fingers out to tell them to stay there. None of her men would be Sara’s tail. Alex needed them here. She could find someone else she trusted. She’d do that tonight.

Alex helped Sara into the Jeep and buckled her in. She went around to get in the driver’s seat and pulled down the driveway. The drive to Sara’s house took half an hour, because Alex actually followed traffic laws for once. She didn’t see the purpose of driving fast when Sara was already terrified.

The sun was just dipping below the horizon when Alex pulled into Sara’s driveway. There would be no letting Sara walk alone tonight, and not even if Alex walked with her. The Jeep was bulletproof. They’d have no protection on the sidewalk.

The trembling in Sara’s hands had almost stopped when Alex reached over. She rested her palm on Sara’s fingers, just to check. “I’ll be back tomorrow,” Alex said, and unbuckled Sara’s seatbelt. Sara nodded numbly and opened her door, sliding out.

There was a girl sitting tucked into the corner of Sara’s porch who Alex recognized as Sara’s friend Hayden. Hayden’s elbows were resting on her knees and her face was in her hands. She was probably worried about Sara. If Alex was anyone else, she would think it was sweet.

But Hayden wasn’t the only one waiting up for Sara. David, Sara’s father, was watching through the window, yellow light casting an undeserved halo around his slowly balding head. Alex couldn’t bring herself to feel anything but animosity for the man. David obviously hadn’t seen Hayden, because he was staring straight out the window, eyes following Sara as she walked from the Jeep to the house.

Alex watched Sara too, and could tell that she knew her father didn’t know Hayden was there, too, because she subtly let her hand brush Hayden’s shoulder as she moved to the side to grab her doorknob. If Alex had done it, it would have been a calculated move, but with Sara it had looked to be instinctual.

The front door opened and Sara walked in, and it closed behind her. Alex refused to leave yet, until she was sure Sara was safe in her room and her father wouldn’t touch her. She could feel someone’s gaze on her, and her eyes snapped to Hayden, who was still here, too.

Hayden held Alex’s gaze better than most of the men Alex worked with, and she had to praise her for that. Hayden protected Sara, as much as she could. Alex would always be able to do it better, but she was almost impressed. She had no doubt that Sara had told Hayden who Alex was, yet Hayden was still staring her down, assessing her.

A voice rose from the house, and sounded deep and male. Alex tensed and looked through the window, but Sara and David must have moved away, because Alex couldn’t see them. Alex saw Hayden’s head snap toward the front door, too.

There was a loud crash from inside the house, and, at least to Alex, it wasn’t entirely unexpected. It followed the normal pattern of escalation. But Alex jumped out of the car anyway, not bothering to pull the key out of the ignition or even slam the door behind her. She was on the porch before Hayden could even get to her feet, throwing the front door open and bursting into the house. She could tell Hayden was right behind her.

Sara’s house had an open floor plan, but Alex didn’t take the time to map anything else out. Sara was on the floor, propped up on one elbow, other arm raised above her head. She was looking up fearfully at her father, whose hand was still swinging in its follow through.

David had slapped her to the ground.

Alex didn’t let herself feel anything. She just moved, lightning quick, to restrain Sara’s father. She grabbed his arm and spun him around, not even using any effort. David was a large man, and even if Alex wasn’t stronger, she was faster, and a better fighter. She grabbed his other arm, and slammed his face against the nearest wall. She didn’t care if she hurt him. He deserved it. She spared a glance backward, and Hayden was on the floor beside Sara, holding her.

The impersonal dam inside Alex broke at the sight of Sara, so small and vulnerable, curling into her friend’s arms. She had been terrified before, and now it was worse. Alex pulled David back from the wall just so she could slam his face into it again. She heard a discomfited noise from the staircase, and whipped her head around to see what made it.

Sara’s mother and sister were crouched on the staircase, with wide, terrified eyes. Alex felt a rush of anger at them, too. They had watched David hurt Sara, and they hadn’t done anything. For a moment, she berated herself for not noticing them earlier, but she was trained to recognize threats, and they were not threats. Alex had the only threat in this house held against the wall. David was struggling, but Alex pulled his arm higher up behind his back, and he froze.

Alex didn’t speak, but a low growl rose from the back of her throat. God, she wanted to kill this man.

 

Sara hadn’t been crying before, but she was crying now. She remembered her father yelling at her for being gone for hours. Sara had forgotten that she had needed to be home for dinner until the moment she walked through the door. She hadn’t even bothered to defend herself, because that would have just made it worse. She was almost lucky that he had only slapped her once.

Hayden’s arms were wrapped around her and Hayden’s shoulder was wet, from Sara. Alex was across the room, holding Sara’s father against the wall. Sara’s mother and sister were crouched on the staircase, watching everything happen.

Hayden had her phone out, and was calling the police. Sara got a glimpse of the three numbers on the screen before Hayden put the phone to her ear. She was rocking Sara back and forth a little bit, shushing her and telling her it was going to be okay.

Sara didn’t know how long had passed before she heard the sirens, and until they were in her driveway. She looked around noticed Alex was gone, and her father was resting against the wall, keeled over in pain. The front door was open, and Sara could see the Jeep was gone, replaced with squad cars. Alex must have hit Sara’s father before she left. Sara appreciated that.

There were cops storming into the house, but only one or two had their guns out. These were her father’s co-workers, but they were also cops, and they had a job to do. Two of them went over to restrain David. One went up the stairs to approach Margaret and Harley. A fourth came over and knelt beside Hayden and Sara where they were still sitting on the ground.

They may have been shouting when they came in; Sara couldn’t remember. She could barely hear the cop right next to her. Her ears were ringing.

“What happened here?” the cop beside them asked, voice gentle and cautious. Sara looked up at him, and vaguely recognized him. She’d probably seen him at the station before.

“He—he hit me,” Sara stuttered. It was all she could say. She tucked her face back against Hayden’s shoulder, and heard Hayden speak for her.

“I can act as a witness,” Hayden said. “I saw everything.”

 

David was arrested. Sara watched with dispassionate eyes as her father was loaded into the squad car, Hayden providing strength at her back. She had decided to press charges.

There was a different cop than the one before beside her, explaining that there was going to be a trial, and that Sara should stay away from her family right now, lest they influence her wrongly. Sara nodded without actually hearing it. She knew Hayden was listening for her, because she didn’t want to right now.

After everyone left, Hayden took Sara back into the house. Sara didn’t spare a passing glance for her mother and sister, standing around the living room with guilty looks on their faces. Hayden led Sara to her room, and helped her pack a bag. Sara had a lot of things at Hayden’s house, but not enough to be staying with her indefinitely.

Hayden’s car was parked down the block. Sara got in, clutching one of her bags to her chest while the other sat by her feet. Hayden drove carefully, looking before she turned and checking before she crossed intersections. It was such a stark difference from Alex.

Hayden’s house was dark when they got there. They went through the front door, and there was light coming from the kitchen. Hayden peeked her head in, Sara’s backpack on her back. Sara stood behind her.

“Hey, Mom?” Hayden greeted her mother. “Can Sara stay with us for a while? Some things happened. Yeah, I’ll explain tomorrow. Thanks, Mom.”

Hayden turned back toward Sara and nodded, wrapping an arm around her waist. They went upstairs and Sara dropped her bag on Hayden’s floor, collapsing onto the bed. She was mentally and physically exhausted, and she just wanted to sleep. So much had happened today.

Hayden walked toward her, hand out like she was going to pet Sara, but was distracted by a tap on the window. Sara watched Hayden’s face twist up. They were on the second floor. Hayden pulled back the curtain, and motioned for Sara to come closer.

“Your girl’s here,” she said.

Sara looked out the window too, and saw Alex standing in the grass below. She was filled with an overwhelming urge to go to her, so she did. She ran out of Hayden’s house and around the back, nearly taking Alex out in her haste to get to her.

Alex’s strong arms wrapped around her, the smell of blood and gunpowder still lingering. Alex probably hadn’t showered yet. Sara realized she was still wearing Alex’s jacket, and Alex wasn’t wearing her shoulder holsters. Sara slid a hand down to the small of Alex’s back and felt the telltale hard metal tucked in Alex’s waistband.

Alex reached around and grabbed Sara’s wrist. “Don’t touch that,” she said, gently. It wasn’t a reprimand. Just advice. Sara took it and nodded, burying her nose in Alex’s shoulder. It was dark out.

Alex pulled back, a hand on the side of Sara’s neck. “I have something for you,” she said.

Sara didn’t have the energy to ask, but that was okay, because Alex didn’t expect her to. Alex flicked her wrist and a large man appeared out of the shadows, with something slung over his arm. Sara shrunk back into Alex.

Alex placed a reassuring hand on her back. “This is Fyodor,” she said. Fyodor nodded his head in greeting. Alex reached out a hand, and Fyodor placed whatever was on his arm in it.

Alex held it up. It was Sara’s pink bomber jacket. She hadn’t even noticed it was missing. “I had it bulletproofed,” Alex said. Surprised, Sara pulled off Alex’s leather jacket and took her bomber from Alex. She pulled it on, and it didn’t feel any different.

“Fyodor has been assigned to protect you,” Alex said. “You won’t notice him. It’s not safe for you, now that there’s a chance the Italians know your face. Fyodor won’t let your father get near you, either.”

Sara didn’t know what to say. “Thank you,” she whispered. Alex shrugged her jacket on.

“Call me if you need anything,” she said. “I’ll be back tomorrow. Promise.”


	22. chapter 21

Alex was exhausted by the time she walked into her room. She threw her keys on her desk and took off her jacket, throwing it on the ottoman by her bookshelf. She had the urge to punch a wall, but didn’t have the energy to follow through. Alex sat on the bed and fell backward, letting out a breath that she had been holding since the window blew that afternoon.

Not ten seconds later, her door slammed open, and James stormed in. She belatedly realized that he hadn’t been in her room when she got there. Alex didn’t bother looking up, because she was tired and she didn’t want to deal with anything else today. In the hour she had left Sara alone, she had run background checks on twenty of the goons, and narrowed it down to one person to protect Sara. Usually that took upwards of four hours, but she couldn’t bring herself to leave Sara unprotected that long.

“What the  _ fuck  _ were you thinking!” James yelled. He was standing by her feet, fists clenched like he wanted to hit her, but he knew better. “What was the purpose of any of that? You brought a civvy into the fucking  _ Bratva  _ basement? To the Mansion  _ at all _ ? What the  _ fuck _ , Alex?”

Alex let him yell, tucking her arms behind her head. God, she wished she had the energy to deck him. But it had been an exhausting day, and Alex’s arms were sore. And they were both covered in enough bruises to last awhile, too.

But really, she wanted to give James one more. His face was yet unharmed.

Alex sat up, the clench of her abs alerting her to how sore she was. She rested one arm back on the bed and leaned against it. She used her other hand to motion James closer, and reached out to grab the collar of his shirt.

Alex tugged him down, close enough that she could feel his heavy breath. She kissed the tip of his nose, but he knew that didn’t mean it was okay.

Suddenly, fast enough to be missed if you blinked, Alex wheeled her arm back and slapped James across the cheek. The  _ crack  _ resounded through the room and James’s head snapped to the side with a clear imprint of Alex’s hand.

Passingly, Alex wished James had enough hair to grab, but settled for grabbing the back of the collar of his shirt instead. She pulled tight enough that it would choke him slightly. Her voice was low when she spoke. “I don’t care,” she said, “If you’re off the clock. You do  _ not  _ speak to me that way unless you want to end up in the hospital. Understood?”

James’s eyes were burning, but he forced out, “Yes, ma’am,” through gritted teeth. Alex accepted it.

But she didn’t let go of his shirt just yet. “Secondly,” she continued, “You do not get to tell me what I can and can’t do. I’m still your superior. And I swear to god, James, I will rip your dick off with my teeth.”

She moved her hand to his chest and pushed him backward. She didn’t even have to use all of her strength to send him stumbling. When he got his feet under him, James glared at her with all he had, but Alex didn’t even blink.

“I’m done dealing with this tonight,” Alex said. “You can bring it up with me tomorrow when you’re on the clock and come lie down right now, or you can go wait in your room and simmer and not bring it up again. Your choice.”

James flexed his fists, looked to the side, and let out a heavy breath, visibly relaxing.

Alex nodded. James walked over to her and knelt by her feet, untying her shoes and pulling them off. He kicked off his own shoes and crawled up the bed, lowing himself beside Alex. Alex opened her arms for him. He was in no way forgiven, but they could deal with it tomorrow. James pillowed his head on Alex’s shoulder. He didn’t apologize.


	23. chapter 22

Hayden and Sara skipped school the next day. They both received an influx of texts from the rest of their squad, ranging from  _ where are you guys? _ to  _ we miss you!! _ to  _ mr. k isnt here today isnt that weird? _ (But Sara knew why Mr. K wasn’t there, so it really wasn’t all that weird to her.) (She understood why he was staying home, though it was probably for a different reason than Sara was.) (God, what was her life?)

Sara didn’t wake up until nine thirty, which was a lot later than usual for her. Hayden was curled around her, awake and playing on her phone. She looked to be playing doodle jump.

“Mmph,” Sara mumbled, turning her head into Hayden’s chest. Hayden snickered at her, locking her phone and dropping it to the bedding.

“You ready to get up?” Hayden asked, rubbing a hand over Sara’s hair. “Mom ‘n Dad made us breakfast before they left. They’ll expect an explanation when they come home today, so you have the rest of the day to decide what to tell them. You don’t have to tell them what happened,” she said, “if you don’t want to. But you say what you think you can.”

Sara blinked at her. That was a little too much to process five seconds after getting up. Sara had to run through it in her head a couple times before she understood it. “Okay,” she said.

They got out of bed and Hayden bugged Sara until she took a shower. Sara needed—she could still smell the scent of blood and gunpowder on her shirt (she hadn’t bothered to change before falling asleep last night) from wearing Alex’s jacket for so long. There were clothes waiting of her outside the door when Sara got out of the shower, and she silently thanked Hayden and changed into them.

Hayden was downstairs, setting two plates of breakfast for herself and Sara. Hayden’s parents were getting ready to leave, grabbing the last of their things. They both kissed Hayden on the head on their way out the door, and did the same to Sara.

Hayden and Sara ate in silence, sitting close enough that their thighs touched. Sara looked out the kitchen window, where across the street was a nondescript car with the guard Alex had assigned sitting in it. Sara couldn’t remember his name, only that it was Russian and it started with an F. But despite that, she hoped he wouldn’t be needed.

Hayden washed the dishes when they were done, and it was nice to not have to be the one to do it for once. She was a Sub, so her father saw it as free labor.

When she was done, Hayden pulled Sara to the couch so they could watch TV. Sara tucked her knees to her chest and rested her head on Hayden’s shoulder. She couldn’t bring herself to focus on what was playing, mostly because she was still trying to process everything that had happened yesterday.

It was hard to remember the details. She remembered talking to Alex, then after that, it was just noise. She remembered how Alex and the black guy protected her, how they got her to that room with Sebastian. It was kind of fuzzy after that, until Alex took her home and everything happened with her father.

God, Sara was tired. Her eyes fluttered and she wanted to drift off, but Alex had said she would come back today, and Sara didn’t want to miss that. She had questions, but she didn’t know if she would ask them. She just wanted Alex.

And she got Alex, a couple minutes later. Alex showed up around ten, and the guard from the car was in the doorway next to her. They knocked on the door and Hayden got up to answer it, but Sara could see who it was through the window.

Alex was wearing her leather jacket again. She greeted Hayden with a nod and entered without being invited, the man beside her slipping his way in as well. He was large, over six feet tall, with a gruff face and a scar on his temple. He wore a matching leather jacket to Alex’s and heavy boots, but he wasn’t as imposing as he could have been, like he was consciously trying to look less intimidating.

Alex walked up behind Sara, placing a hand on the front of her throat. Sara had watched Alex walk over to her, and closed her eyes and preened under Alex’s touch. Hayden was still standing with the door in one hand, looking confused and a little offended.

“Close the door,” Alex said. “You’ll let all the bad guys in.”

Hayden did as she was told, grumbling something under her breath about the bad guys already being in. The large man still stood by the door, and he and Hayden looked at each other for a moment. It wasn’t threatening or even competitive—it was mostly confused.

Hayden broke their gaze and walked over to the couch. “Don’t touch her,” she said to Alex defensively, glaring.

Alex didn’t move her hands from Sara’s neck, and Sara shrunk back into the couch a little bit at the impending argument. Hayden had enough sense not to touch Alex, but she repeated herself twice.

Alex just looked at her, like she was surprised she could talk. “She’s not your property,” Alex said. Her index finger was running up and down the column of Sara’s throat, making her eyes flutter a little bit. She couldn’t bring herself to stop the argument.

“She’s not yours either,” Hayden countered, and Sara appreciated how protective Hayden was of her, even if it was extraneous. Alex wasn’t a threat to her anymore.

Alex’s finger only froze on Sara’s throat for a millisecond, but Sara still noticed it. “I am the best person to protect Sara right now,” Alex said evenly. Sara could tell she was trying to control herself in Hayden’s presence.

It was also only the second time Sara’d heard Alex use her name, and this time Alex wasn’t threatening her. There was a foreign lilt to the way she said it, an ‘ar’ sound on the first a instead of an ‘air’ sound. Sara liked it.

Sara could tell that Hayden didn’t completely accept Alex’s answer but she dropped the issue, probably because she saw the blissful look on Sara’s face at Alex’s hands on her neck. Sara reached up and grabbed Alex’s wrist, turning her head so she could nuzzle her nose into it.

Alex looked down at her, eyes flashing. Sara couldn’t tell what with, but it made the streaks of white in the blue stand out even more. She smiled at Sara, just a little bit, but Sara could see the unnatural sharpness of her canines once more.

Hayden sat back down on the couch beside Sara. Alex glanced at her, giving Sara a little push in that direction. Sara leaned against Hayden, whose arm came around her protectively. Alex turned around to speak to the large man, but their conversation was in Russian so Sara couldn’t even eavesdrop.

The front door opened and closed, and Alex came back over and sat beside Sara on the couch. Sara looked at her, then looked at Hayden, then looked back at Alex, then looked back at Hayden. She loved Hayden, but she felt safer with Alex at the moment. Sara kissed Hayden’s shoulder in some kind of apology and shifted so she was leaning against Alex.

Alex reacted in almost a surprised manner; lifting her arms and pausing before wrapping them around Sara. Sara sighed happily, resting her feet in Hayden’s lap so she wouldn’t feel left out. Alex’s jacket was cold but Alex was warm, and Sara tucked her hands against Alex’s stomach and side to warm them. She felt her hand bump against something strapped to Alex’s side, and pulled her hand back, startled.

“I can take them off,” Alex offered, “If they make you uncomfortable.”

Sara nodded and Hayden sent them a quizzical look that quickly disappeared soon after. Alex moved Sara like she weighed nothing to rest her against the back of the couch, and leaned forward to shed her jacket. She was just wearing a simple gray t-shirt under, with a brown leather shoulder holster strapped to either of her sides.

Sara heard Hayden gasped but no one said anything, and Sara watched Alex unbuckle them and shrug them off, dropping them atop her jacket on the floor. She leaned back and Sara plastered herself back to Alex’s side.

“You have guns,” Hayden said.

“They’re for protection,” Alex said. “The people who would come for Sara have guns, too.” Sara’s head was tucked under Alex’s chin, ear pressed to her chest, and she could feel the vibrations through Alex’s body when she spoke.

Sara was basically sitting in Alex’s lap, but she knew how bony her butt was, and tucked it between Alex’s legs so it rested on the couch. Her head was still under Alex’s chin, with her hands tucked between their stomachs. One of Alex’s arms was wrapped around Sara’s back, and the other was clutching her outer thigh. Sara’s feet were in Hayden’s lap, with Hayden’s hands circling Sara’s ankles.

“I’m cold,” Sara said, shivering a little. Hayden had only left her a t-shirt and jeans outside the door to the bathroom earlier.

“I’ll get you a blanket,” Hayden said, jumping at the opportunity to leave. Sara tried not to feel offended (as she was sure Hayden was trying not to feel jealous), but she understood why Hayden would want to get away. Alex could be pretty intimidating without even trying.

Alex’s eyes followed Hayden as she walked up the stairs, and when she was out of sight, she said, “I told Fyodor to go home while I’m here. He’ll stay with you when I can’t, and I’ll stay with you while he goes home to refresh. I have a backup as well. You’ll be protected.”

Sara nodded, curling her fingers. “Thank you.”

Hayden came back down with one of her softest blankets in her arms, sitting down and throwing it over Sara. Alex tucked it around her shoulders and ran a hand through Sara’s hair. Sara could feel herself start to drift off again, but she didn’t want to fall asleep now because she didn’t want to leave Alex and Hayden in awkward silence together.

Suddenly, a spike of panic shot through her, and she could feel herself flinch. Alex looked down at her and Hayden tightened her grip on Sara’s ankles, but Sara didn’t say anything.

What if her family searched her room? For the most part it was clean, but she hadn’t cleared her browser history in a while and there was still the matter of her sketchbooks, especially the hidden, illicit one. What if her mother or sister found those? What would they do then? Sara knew she was staying with Hayden until her father’s trial, but she didn’t know if she would be able to go back and get more of her things.

Alex sent her a look that was almost an order, asking Sara what was wrong. Sara hesitated, but said, “I left some things… at my house. I can’t let my mom and sister see them. What if they go through my room and find them?”

After a couple seconds, Alex said, “I can send somebody to go get them. Just make a list of everything you’ll need and you’ll get them.”

Sara nodded and thanked her, and Hayden got up to get Sara a piece of paper and a pen. Sara thanked her when she sat back down, and Alex held Sara close as she leaned forward to grab her phone from her jacket pocket on the floor. When she sat back up, Sara started making her list: Her laptop and charger, her phone charger, some specific articles of clothing, her messenger bag with her sketchbook and other art things in it, her hidden sketchbook and instructions on how to find it, and last but not least the teddy bear on her nightstand.

Alex sent a picture of the list to someone whose name Sara couldn’t identify, because all of the words on Alex’s phone were written in Russian Cyrillic. Sara stared a couple seconds longer before giving up. Alex set her phone on the arm of the couch and wrapped Sara back in her arms. Sara got a little distracted by the muscle there again.

A couple minutes later, Alex’s phone rang. The buzzing started Sara—she had been lulled into a gentle haze, but that broke her out of it. Alex looked over at her phone like she had just remembered she had one and she didn’t know why, and answered it.

Alex didn’t speak for a couple of seconds, then said, “Hold on. I’m going to put you on speaker. Speak English, please.” She pulled the phone away from her ear and tapped a button.

A deep male voice came from the phone, with a heavy Russian accent. “I have question,” he said. “For… your girl.”

Sara assumed that meant her, and tried not to blush. Alex didn’t say anything so Sara didn’t either, and the man continued. “There are… many plants here. Do they stay?”

Sara had forgotten about her plants. No one there would water them. She looked to Alex for permission to speak, and Alex nodded. “Can you bring them here?” Sara asked shyly. “And grab the watering calendar from the desk, please?”

There was silence on the other end, then, “Yes.”

Alex nodded at Sara and took the phone off speaker, saying a couple phrases in Russian before hanging up. “He’s on his way,” she said.

Sara looked at Hayden. “Is it okay if I fill your room with more plants?” she asked, smiling a little. She knew Hayden would say yes.

“I’m not watering them for you,” Hayden said, but it was acceptance. She and Hayden and Minerva had their plants on the same watering schedule, so it wouldn’t be much of a problem. They’d just have to try not to run into each other.

Maybe twenty minutes later, there was a knock on the door. Sara felt Alex tense beneath her and she moved Sara off of her, grabbing one of her guns. Hayden’s eyes flicked to the motion but she didn’t say anything. Alex stalked up to the door, out of sight of the window. She pressed the barrel of the gun to the door and clicked off the safety, and opened the door cautiously.

Alex relaxed when she saw who was on the other side, and flicked the safety back on as she pulled her gun away and tucked it into the back of her pants. Alex opened the door wider to allow the people through.

The guy who Alex was talking to on the phone walked through first, Sara’s messenger bag slung over his shoulder and two canvas bags in either hand. Three other men came in behind him, each with a tray full of Sara’s plants. Sara blushed a little bit; this is what Alex must have felt like all the time, with people bending backward to comply to her every whim. Sara kind of liked it, she had to admit.

The big guy in the front walked over to Sara and set the canvas bags down. He reached into one, pulling out a leather bracelet that Sara hadn’t seen it in nearly two years. It was her ID bracelet, that she had been required by law to get. After she’d had her orientation test at the USOR, her results packet had come with an order form. All of the bracelets were free, because they were government mandated. Sara had gotten her’s in the mail and promptly dropped it on her desk, not to be touched for years. Sara couldn’t be legally disciplined for not wearing it until she was eighteen, and she was putting it off as long as possible.

The man knelt in front of her, setting her messenger bag down as well. He spoke in stuttered English. “I can tell,” he said, “that you do not want this.” Sara was having a little trouble understanding him through his thick accent, but he spoke slowly. “But with your father’s trial, you will be punished if you are not wearing it then.”

He offered the bracelet to her, resting in his open palm. Sara looked at him, baffled, and took it with two fingers. She was surprised; she didn’t think mobsters could be so thoughtful.

“Dimitry,” Alex scolded. “You are too soft.”

Dimitry didn’t answer, just shot Sara a charming smile and stood. He was younger than the other one, Fyodor. His hair was still a rich brown, not peppered with any gray, and he didn’t have as many lines on his face. Sara almost thought he was attractive. He even seemed to be trying to make himself less intimidating.

(Maybe Alex had ordered them to do so, because all of the mobsters that stopped through near Sara seemed to be doing that.)

The other three men set the trays of plants behind the couch and left without saying a word. The did nod their head respectfully to Alex on their way out. Dimitry left too, half bowing to Alex. It was almost sarcastic, but Alex didn’t do anything about it, so they must have had some other relationship than strictly boss-and-goon.

Alex shut and locked the door behind him and came back to the couch. Sara reached out for her and grabbed the edge of her shirt, twisting it in her fingers. She could feel Hayden staring at her, but she ignored it. Hayden still didn’t trust Alex; not that Sara could blame her. But that didn’t change the fact that Sara trusted Alex, and wanted her near.

Alex moved to sit down but Hayden interrupted. “You should put that away,” she said, looking at Sara, and waving a hand to indicate all the things the men had brought. “I’ll help you carry it upstairs.”

Sara looked away from Alex and nodded, kicking the blanket off her legs and reaching down to grab her messenger bag. For some reason, she trusted that everything she asked for was in there, unharmed. She didn’t know why. But she trusted Alex, and Alex seemed to trust them.

She grabbed one of the canvas bags, too, and one of the trays of plants. She saw Alex grab two canvas bags and Hayden grab the last one, and they each grabbed a tray and followed Sara up the stairs. The door to Hayden’s room was still open, and Sara nudged it open further with her hip.

Hayden’s room was already filled with plants, but she also had big windows and a little more spare surface area. She felt a little bad for taking up so much of Hayden’s space, but Hayden would probably yell at her if she apologized for it.

Sara sat down on the bed and set the tray beside her. She unclenched her fist and shoved her ID bracelet into the front pocket of her messenger bag, for a later time. She dropped the other bag at her feet and started distributing plants around the room. Hayden and Alex set their trays on the bed and dropped their bags by the other. Hayden helped Sara set her plants around and Alex stood by the door with her arms crossed, alert.

Sara and Hayden finished and they went back downstairs. Behind her, Sara could hear Alex grumbling under her breath, something about how two-storey houses are insecure. Sara almost snorted, because she’d been to Alex’s house and it had two storeys as well. But Alex’s place probably had guards milling around everywhere. Hayden’s house didn’t have that. All it had was Alex. (But Sara figured that was enough.)

They settled back on the couch the way they had before. Sara draped herself across Alex like a cat, but Alex didn’t seem to mind. Sara tucked her feet under Hayden’s thigh for warmth, and pulled the blanket back over her body.

One of Alex’s arms went back around Sara’s back, but the other moved from Sara’s thigh to her stomach. It just rested there, and Sara didn’t know why. It rose and fell with her breaths, and Sara thought maybe that was why. She wanted to make sure Sara was breathing.

Sara nuzzled her head into Alex’s shoulder and decided she would take a nap, because she’d been wanting to all day and now she finally had a chance. Hayden turned the TV back on as Sara was falling asleep, but she left the volume down. Sara drifted off serenely, one hand on Alex’s chest.

She woke to a knock at the door. It wasn’t the knock that startled her awake, but Alex’s violent reaction. Alex flinched roughly and nearly threw Sara off her lap in her haste to grab one of her guns and slink up to the door with the barrel pressed to the wood.

Hayden mumbled sleepily; she must have fallen asleep too. She looked around and saw Alex at the door, then saw Blue peeking in through the window. Hayden started.

“Don’t shoot them!” she exclaimed, jumping up from the couch. Sara would have done the same, but she took a little longer to wake up. Instead she grabbed the back of the couch to haul herself into a sitting position, and rested her chin on her hands.

“Please put the gun down,” she asked, and Alex looked at her. She lowered the gun, clicking the safety back on, and looking at Sara like she didn’t want to be doing what she was doing. Hayden slipped in between Alex and the door, grabbing the knob like Alex had offended her and muttering, “Why would bad guys knock?” She sent a glare Alex’s way, but Alex just raised an eyebrow.

Sara reached out a hand, trying to intercept an argument before it started. Dubiously, Alex came over to her, and let Sara grab her shirt again. She didn’t put the gun down yet, but at least her finger wasn’t on the trigger anymore. Sara used her other hand to grab Alex’s forearm with the hand that held the gun.

“Please put that away,” she asked. Once again Alex complied, sliding it into the waistband of her pants at her lower back, but Sara could tell she didn’t like it. Sara wished Alex would relax a little, but she knew why she couldn’t. Sara was probably lucky that Alex had even sat down earlier, let alone let Sara sit on her. That probably wasn’t the best position to be in if they were attacked, but Sara also remembered how fast Alex had moved Sara off of her when there had been a knock on the door.

Hayden opened the door and their friends piled in. Minerva gave Hayden a hug, for no apparent reason. (There probably was a reason, Sara just didn’t know.) Adam, Blue, and Roman stepped out of the way so Hayden could close the door.

The four of them turned to walk into the room at the same time, and simultaneously froze at the sight of Alex. Alex didn’t flinch at the sudden gazes turned on her as Sara would have. She stood her ground and held their eyes, waiting for them to look away first. Blue was the first to break, probably because he was a Sub. He subtly moved behind Adam, fingertips brushing Adam’s hip. Sara caught Blue’s eye and mimicked the motion on Alex, trying to show him that she wasn’t a threat to them. So long as Sara was there, they’d be safe, too.

Adam held Alex’s gaze the longest, but Sara got the feeling that no one could beat Alex at this game. Sara tugged at Alex’s shirt again, willing her to be nice and not so intimidating. Alex shifted, uncrossing her arms. Sara reached forward with the hand that wasn’t still twisted in Alex’s shirt and tangled her fingers into Alex’s. Alex didn’t reciprocate, but she didn’t stop Sara, either. Sara wanted to press her face into Alex’s back but the gun was still there.

“So hey,” Adam said, almost sarcastically, dragging out the ‘ey’. He was still wary, and the others were kind of grouped around him. Probably because Adam was the highest-level Dom in their group, but Alex was still higher.

Sara clambered up, climbing over the back of the couch. “She’s okay,” she said, starting to walk toward her friends. She didn’t get very far, because Alex grabbed her side like an impudent child and pulled her back against her chest. Sara frowned up at her and huffed, but Alex was still staring at her friends. “She won’t hurt you,” Sara reiterated. To Alex, she said, “You won’t hurt them.” It was almost an order.

Sara didn’t know why Alex wouldn’t let her go to her friends, but she didn’t question it, because Alex was only trying to protect her. Maybe it was something about being too close to the windows. People in cop shows were always worried about that. Maybe it actually had some factual basis in reality. (Or whatever reality Sara was living in now.)

“You’re the new girl at school,” Roman said. He was the first to come forward, slowly reaching out a hand to Sara. Sara reached out one of her own and clasped Roman’s fingers tightly.

“I don’t know if I’d call her ‘new’,” Minerva said, seemingly getting over her momentary fear and coming over to stand beside Roman. “She’s been here all year.”

Hayden came back over, away from the door, and plopped back down on the couch, but didn’t take her eyes off Alex. Alex didn’t seem too bothered. Sara could feel her breathing evenly against her back, but she could also feel the corded tension in her muscle.

Sara looked up at Alex. “Can we sit down?” Alex nodded, and released Sara. Sara used their still-connected hands to pull Roman into a quick hug. She released him and walked around the couch instead of climbing over it. She stared at Alex until Alex sat down first, so Sara could sit on her lap again. There was an empty space between them and Hayden, but no one filled it.

Roman folded his legs beneath himself and sat beside the coffee table in front of Sara. Minerva, Adam, and Blue followed his lead. Minerva sat on the coffee table beside Roman and Adam sat beside her. Blue kneeled on the floor like Roman beside Adam. Adam’s hand landed on his back protectively.

“Are we allowed to ask questions?” Blue asked suddenly. “I’m curious as to what’s happening here.”

“You can ask,” Alex said. “But don’t expect answers.”

“Oh, good,” Blue said, seemingly ignoring the second part of Alex’s answer. “My first question: What the all-encompassing fuck?”

“That’s not exactly a question, babe,” Adam pointed out.

Sara shot a look up at Alex’s impassive face. She didn’t like how little Alex talked around others, but she figured that was just one of the conditions. Alex only talked to people one-on-one, maybe, or only to people she knew. Whatever the reason, Alex wasn’t talking.

Sara looked back at her friends. “Ask specific questions,” she suggested.

“Okay,” Blue agreed. “What the incredibly specific fuck?”

“Why is she here?” Roman asked over Blue. Blue didn’t seem to mind, because his question still wasn’t a question.

“Why are there three creepy guys in cars outside?” Minerva asked, always the observant one. “They’re all excessively large. And armed.”

Sara opened her mouth, about to explain, but she looked up at Alex first to see if it was okay. Alex shook her head sharply, so Sara closed her mouth, powerless to do anything.

“I’m sorry, guys,” she said. “I can’t tell you.”

Her friends were disappointed, but persistent. The next couple of hours were filled with questions, none of which got answered. Especially not the ones about Alex’s personal life. At one point, Adam and Roman got up to make lunch, and everyone but Alex ate. Maybe she wasn’t human, and she didn’t need to eat or sleep or blink. It would explain a lot. Like her canines.

It was nearly five now, and the sun was just starting to dip from its point in the sky. Sara was still reclined atop Alex, but Alex’s muscles hadn’t lost any of their tension. The TV was on, and Sara’s friends were chatting amicably, finally leaving Alex alone. Sara didn’t mind not being part of the conversation; she was starting to drift off again. Alex was warm, even if she wasn’t soft, and Sara was comfortable. One of Alex’s hands was gripping her hip.

Sara was glad there hadn’t been a fight yet. Adam was prone to fighting, even if he was actually a giant teddy bear. He was very protective of everyone in their group, and Alex was an outsider—a dangerous one at that. Sara had no doubt that Alex would fight anyone in this room (except maybe Sara), or even anyone at all. With all these stingy people in the room, it was probably just pure luck at this point.

It was quiet, and suddenly there was a knock at the door. Alex flinched beneath Sara and pushed her off her lap, holding out a hand to keep them all where they were. Alex pulled the gun from where it was still in the back of her pants, and Sara pointedly did not look at her friends’ reactions. She didn’t want to know. Alex pressed the muzzle to the door again, like the time before, and pulled it open cautiously.

A large black man was standing there, looking agitated. He completely bypassed Alex’s caution, shoving a large duffle bag in her arms and pushing past her into the house. In the blink of an eye, Alex’s gun was gone, hidden beneath her clothes again.

“Are you fucking stupid?” the man asked, but Alex didn’t seem to care. “Leave your fucking phone on. We’re going.”

The duffle was slung over Alex’s shoulder, and Alex grabbed the man’s shirt collar, pulling his head down. Sara heard her say, “You’re on the clock,” and then Alex kicked his shins so he fell to his knees. Sara didn’t know what the exchange meant, but the man didn’t move when Alex walked into the bathroom and closed the door behind her.

Alex was back in no time, looking completely different. She was dressed in all black, clothes with thick fabric and heavy boots. Her hair was pulled back and there was black paint around her eyes. The second the door was open, the black man jumped up to grab Alex’s stuff from in front of the couch, and they were out the door.

The second the door closed behind them, it opened again, to another man. He was the same guy as last time, the one with rich brown hair. He had large brown eyes and rough hands, but he looked nice enough.

He closed the door gently behind him. “I am Dimitry,” he said, accent thick. “Alex is sorry she had to run out like that, but there is an emergency. I will take the lead on your protection for now, Ms. Queen.” He did a little bow thing and Sara was completely stumped from the past couple of minutes, so she just nodded silently.

“When will Alex be back?” she asked.

Dimitry sighed and looked out the window. “I do not know,” he said. “I only hope she will be.”


	24. chapter 23

Alex was terrified.

Truly, she had no reason to be. She was in the most protected position, had the most advantage. But it was her men down there in the thick of the fighting, her father leading the charge. They were winning, but only just.

Alex pulled the trigger of her rifle, and another Italian dropped. They’d been causing trouble for months, but it had finally come to a head. Alex was systematic in her takedown, but that didn’t stop he bursts of fearful adrenaline every time she focused her sight on another. She followed James’s motions, her father’s motions, Nikolay and Henry’s motions. She made sure no one could harm them, because that was within her power.

She was the best sniper in the Bratva, had the best aim in Bratva history. Of course, there were other snipers posted around the shipping yard atop containers, but none of them were as good as Alex. She pulled the trigger repeatedly, reloaded too many times to count. She wanted this to be over. She wanted to get back to Sara. She wanted those she cared about to make it out alive.

Nothing was certain right now. There were few Italians left, but they were fighting just as viciously. The Italian snipers had been taken care of quickly, by Alex and others. She’d never been battle tested like this before, but she was doing her best to keep her head and do her job. This was only a skirmish. There would be more battles before the conflict was resolved. Hopefully they wouldn’t be like this one, but it had been two days. Alex hadn’t slept in forty-eight hours, but her vision was as sharp as ever.

Alex much preferred verbal and financial disputes. Stealth attacks instead of apparent ones. The police hadn’t even come around yet—either they didn’t know about the full-out mob war happening down at the docks, or they wanted them to resolve it within themselves before moving in. Alex hoped the Bratva would be gone before that happened.

They’d only lost three men total, and they hadn’t been high ranking, but it had been a loss. The Italians had lost more, and that would continue to happen before this was over. Alex wanted it to be over, so she did her job. She wanted to get back to Sara and hold her, protect her.

Alex blinked, breathed out, and pulled the trigger. She was terrified.

 

Sara sat up in bed suddenly, panting. She didn’t remember her dream, but it hadn’t been good. She thought it had been about her father. The trial was coming up in a couple of days, and Alex still wasn’t back. Hayden and the others had been doing their best, but no one could calm Sara down like Alex.

Despite that, Sara shook Hayden’s shoulder to wake her up. “Hayden,” she whispered, choking on tears that were barely held back. “Hayden.”

Hayden rolled over groggily and grabbed Sara’s wrist. “What,” she mumbled, tugging Sara back down. Hayden curled around her. “It’s like three in the morning. What do you want?”

“Nothing,” Sara whispered, tucking her nose into Hayden’s next. Hayden threw a leg over her under the blankets. “I just had a bad dream.” One of Hayden’s hands cradled the back of her head, keeping it where it was. Sara’s eyes were open, fixated on the opalecent gray of Hayden’s hair in the dark.

“I’m worried,” Sara whispered. “About Alex. About my dad. About the trial. What if he isn’t convicted? What if I can’t prove anything and I have to live with him. It’ll only get worse, Hayden, and I can’t—”

“You won’t have to,” Hayden said. “You can stay with me, and I’m sure Alex wouldn’t let you go back to that house. She’s freaky protective and you saw the way she attacked your father. She wasn’t even there one second and then she had him up against the wall the next. I don’t like her, but I don’t think she’d let anything happen to you.”

“Okay,” Sara whispered. Her hands curled into Hayden’s sides.

“Would it help if I ordered you back to sleep?” Hayden asked.

“I don’t think so,” Sara half-whined. “Probably not. Just hold me, please.”

“I can do that. I love you, Sara.”

“I love you, too.”

 

They were almost finished. Four of theirs, innumerable others. Alex had run out of ammunition for her rifle awhile ago, and she’d jumped down off of the storage container to throw herself into the fray. She was back to back with James, not far from her father and Nikolay, who were in the same position.

All of the men around her were larger than her. It didn’t matter—she was better than all of them. She never missed. Her back was to James’s, and her gun was extended in front of her, and she didn’t miss. No one got within eight feet of them. They were so close to being finished with this, so close to it being over.

Alex didn’t have time to think about anything. She thought in her actions, in what she could feel and hear and see. She knew James was in the same mindset. Everyone was. That was the only thing they all shared. The stench was overwhelming, but Alex pushed it away. Her eyes grew heavy, but she held them open. Her hands cramped, but she pushed through. They were so close to being finished. There was no one left on the ground. Alex didn’t let her guard down, though. She kept her eyes sharp and her gun raised.

A dual crack shattered the air around them, and Alex felt fire slash through her shoulder, the one place left vulnerable by her body armor. Another shot rang out, and here eyes were pulled to motion on top of a shipping container—the sniper fell from one of their own. Alex’s hand flew to her shoulder, trying to staunch the bloodflow. Her gun dropped.

James dropped behind her, too. His hands were on his thigh, covering his own bullet wound. Her father and Nikolay and other men rushed toward them, lifting them up and carrying them off. The battle was over, but not without casualties. Alex and James were put into the back of a van, and they sped off, presumably toward the mansion. All Alex could focus on was the pain in her shoulder, and James’s groans of pain next to her. He’d been shot in the leg. She could feel the bullet still in her shoulder.

Her father’s face appeared above her, worried and sweaty. He held her head still and covered her hand on her shoulder with his own. “Neither of your wounds are fatal,” he said to her. “You must only make it back to the mansion and you will survive with no permanent damage. Alex nodded, vision fading in and out. Black covered her peripheral vision, and she lost sight of James. She turned her head in a panic, looking for him, but the rest of her vision went out, and so did the rest of her ability to function.

“Stay with me Alex,” her father said, but she couldn’t hear him anymore.

 

It was over breakfast the next morning that Dimitry’s phone rang. Sara looked over at the sound, thigh pressed to Hayden’s. Dimitry pressed the device to his ear and spoke in Russian in a deep, serious voice. His face looked pained, and he hung up. “I must go,” he said. “Another will be sent. Do not answer the door.” And with that, he was gone.

“What do you think that was about?” Sara asked. She cut another bite of pancakes and shoved it in her mouth. They were soaked in syrup, but no butter.

“I dunno,” Hayden said through her own bite of pancakes. Her parents weren’t awake yet, so she had made them a nice breakfast to make Sara feel better after her nightmare last night. “He’s a freaky Russian Mafia dude. Who actually knows what they do.”

Sara hummed in agreement, and continued to eat her pancakes with intermittent sips of orange juice. “It’s been five days, Hayden.”

“That’s not that long, in the scheme of things, Sara,” Hayden tried to console. “Your girl is terrifying. I’m sure she’ll be fine.”

Sara shrugged and accepted. It had been five days. Sara had gone to school, picked up and dropped off by the man Alex had assigned to protect her. Mikhail was the one who took the day shift—apparently he was the third-in-command’s younger brother or something; either way, Alex trusted him—and picked Sara up and dropped her off from school, his duties also including filling in for Mr. Kashnakov while he was gone. Sara assumed he was with Alex, but she was more surprised that he was qualified to teach as a substitute teacher.

After they finished, Hayden got up to do the dishes. No matter how much Sara insisted, no one had let her help with anything since she had come to stay with Hayden indefinitely. After they’d given Hayden’s parents a summary of what Sara had been through (excluding the mafia parts), they been adamant that Sara would do absolutely no menial housework while she was there. Sara stayed hunched at the table and watched Hayden work and fought the urge to take over. Her submissive instincts and the instincts that had been beaten into her told her to get up and help, but Hayden had ordered her not to, and she couldn’t disobey direct orders.

Hayden finished, and put the dishes away. She came up behind Sara’s chair and hugged her, pushing her nose into Sara’s hair. Sara leaned back into her as much as she could, but the chairs were wooden and immovable. Boldly, Sara stood up and tucked herself under Hayden’s chin. “I don’t want to go to school today,” Sara whispered. She saw over Sara’s shoulder that, at some point, Mikhail had slipped back in and was lingering by the door. She knew he heard her, and gave her a nod.

“That’s fine,” Hayden said. “You’re under a lot of stress right now. I’ll tell the others to come over once school’s out so we can get our homework and everything.” Sara nodded against Hayden’s shoulder, and Hayden released her.

Sara sucked in a deep breath, and nodded to herself. Everything would be fine, just like Hayden said.

 

Alex came to in one of the Mansion’s recovery rooms.

Her left hand was chained down, and she tried to push down the panic so she could take in her surroundings. The walls were a neural beige, and the blankets on the bed were red. There was a window to her left, brightened with the rising sun. On Alex’s right, there were monitors that she was hooked up to, and the door, which was cracked open. She could see into the recovery room across from her, and saw a flash of chocolate skin. She blinked a couple of times, and James’s face came into focus.

She had to fight the urge to shout for him. She knew it was severe codependency, but she didn’t care. As long as she could see him, she would be fine. First and foremost, she needed to know why she was cuffed. She could remember why her shoulder burned, and she could remember that James had been shot in the leg. She didn’t remember anything after that.

Her phone was on the nightstand, and she lunged for it, ignoring the pain in her shoulder. It was then she noticed she wasn’t still in the clothes she’d been fighting in. She’d been changed into a soft long-sleeved t-shirt and cotton leggings. The thought of anyone changing her clothes made her skin crawl, but hopeful it had been one of the impartial nurses that was on the staff. They cared for nothing but their jobs, helping people. It was mostly disgraced doctors and nurses who had no other job options.

Alex pressed the first speed dial on her phone: her father. It rang through and she heard the beep-beep-silence of his voicemail, and hung up. It would probably be effective enough. If something was truly urgent, she would send a warning text first. Her father never missed a call.

Alex dropped her phone on her lap, covered with the red blanket. She searched her person for anything that could pick the lock to the handcuffs, but there was nothing. Even all of her hidden knives had been removed from her person, and the gun at the small of her back wasn’t there anymore. She was almost certain that everything was in the closet across from the bed, but the doors were closed, so she was unable to confirm.

The missing gun at the small of her back reminded her of the fingers that had been tangled through hers and the warmth of a face above the gun, and to whom those belonged. She’d had to leave Sara behind, after letting Sara see her in her tac suit and the person she became when she put it on. She’d let Sara see her relationship with James. There were some lines that she should not have crossed yet.

Five minutes later, her father knocked on the door to her recovery room. Alex stared him down and jerked the hand that was in the handcuff, making it rattle against the wood. Her father smiled, and produced a key from behind his back. “You were attacking the doctors as they tried to pull the bullet out of your shoulder,” he offered without prompting. He unlocked the cuff, and Alex rubbed her wrist.

“Am I cleared to leave yet?” Alex asked. “I want to go see James,” she continued without pausing. James wasn’t solely the reason she wanted to leave, but he was a large part of it. Alex sat up against the pillows and headboard. She didn’t pull the IV out of her arm, but it was a close thing. “You know I hate these rooms, sir.”

“It is inadvisable,” Joshua said, “but no one can truly stop you, if you set your mind to it.” He pulled over a chair from the window and sat beside Alex’s bed. “I’ve already upgraded your tac suit to prevent another incident like this from happening. James’s as well.”

Alex nodded. “Thank you.” She shifted a little more, then made up her mind. “I’m done hear. A little help?”

Joshua smiled at her, and went around to the other side of the bed to turn off the machines. Alex slid the IV out of her hand and left it lying on the bed; someone would clean it up later. Joshua offered her a hand up out of bed, and Alex curled her toes in the carpet to gain her balance. “I’ve made the executive that you have a week of vacation time for your recovery. Do with it what you wish.”

“Thank you, sir,” Alex said, and released her father’s hand. She left him in the room, crossing the hallway in bare feet to James’s room. He was still asleep, probably sedated as well. Neither of them particularly liked doctors.

James was handcuffed down as well, and Alex procured the key given to her by her father to unlock his cuffs before he woke up. With his arms free, Alex pushed him over so she could slide into bed beside him. Alex was still tired, the rest of the sedative still working through her system. She pulled James’s arm over her shoulder and rested against his chest, closing her eyes. A few more minutes of sleep wouldn’t hurt anyone.

Sara and Hayden walked home from school. Sara needed the distraction, because cars were too soothing with the way they rocked smoothly. Hayden held her hand and put herself between Sara and the other people on the street. Mikhail followed them slowly, driving the car on the shoulder of he road. The passenger’s side window was rolled down so he could keep an eye on them, and so they had the option to get in the car whenever they wanted.

Having a shadow for the past week had been exhausting, but Sara understood the necessity. She missed having Alex, though, holding her close and protecting her. She missed Alex’s dominant presence and the way she could make Sara’s brain quiet. The way she could feel the callouses on Alex’s palms even through her clothes.

Hayden’s shoulder bumped hers as they walked past the park in which Sara had first confessed her sexuality. Everything had been simpler back then. Sara’s problems had been more… more normal. Now she was dealing with the fact that the Italian mob may or may not know her face, and may or may not come after her.

They finally made it into the neighborhood. Hayden lived on the opposite side than Sara, so they didn’t have to walk past Sara’s house, which was appreciated. Other kids were walking home from school as well, and Hayden pulled Sara up against her side so she wouldn’t brush against anyone else.

Hayden’s house came in view, and it took Sara a moment to notice the anomaly. The matte black Jeep parked on the street outside of Hayden’s house, and it almost looked normal, but Sara knew better. She felt her breath catch in her chest and the only reason her feet kept moving was Hayden.

On the other side of the Jeep, there were two bodies leaning against the side of the car. It was Alex, and the same black man who had come to get her from Hayden’s house a week before. Alex’s left arm was in a sling, and her shoulder was wrapped in a white bandage. All she was wearing under her leather jacket (now torn and bloody) was a black tank top. She had scratches on her elbows and a few cuts on her face, and Sara dropped her backpack so she could run to her.

Alex caught her easily and without flinching. The man beside her tensed, but Alex only held Sara tighter. Sara whined into Alex’s throat, and buried her nose in the skin beneath Alex’s ear. She smelled like antiseptic hospital rooms, but that was understandable, based on the state she was in. Sara did her best to not crush Alex’s left arm, but Alex didn’t seem to care either way. Sara’s entire body was completely encompassed in Alex’s dominance and comforting aura.

She knew Hayden was standing ten feet behind them awkwardly, but Sara didn’t care, because Alex was speaking to her. “It’s okay,” she said, almost flippantly, but Sara knew it meant more than that. “I’m all right. Everything’s going to be fine. I’ll protect you.”

Sara had no choice but to believe she was correct.


	25. chapter 24

Everything went back to normal.

Well, as normal as it could be when Alex, the daughter of the Russian mob leader, refused to leave Sara’s side. She somehow managed to change her schedule so she and Sara had all of the same classes, and she never truly had to leave Sara’s side. Alex and Sara’s friends weren’t any warmer to each other, but at least now Alex would look at them and acknowledge their presence. Sara’s shadows had permanently been replaced with Alex, but Alex had a shadow of her own: the black man that Sara had seen so many times, whose name she learned was James.

Alex often had to step out to answer her phone during class, but the teachers never actually acknowledged how that wasn’t allowed. Sometimes Alex ran out in the middle of the nigh, on the nights she didn’t go back to her mansion. Sara had quickly tired of being woken up in the middle of the night because her dominant left, but Hayden was always there to comfort her. It seemed tense, in the mafia, but Alex wasn’t allowed to talk about it.

It was a Wednesday when Alex and James disappeared early in the morning. Mikahil appeared again, and Sara tried not to question it, because she wasn’t allowed. Mikhail took her to school and picked her up, and Sara knew the procedure when Alex wasn’t there was to check in with Mr. K every hour.

Alex still wasn’t back by the time Sara got home from school, and she wasn’t back by dinner, either. Sara hoped it wasn’t something like what had happened before. Her father’s trial was coming up soon, and she didn’t know if she could make i without Alex’s dominance and support. Hayden almost wasn’t enough anymore, but Sara understood that Alex had other responsibilities other than her.

It was passed midnight when Sara was awoken by the sound of Alex’s Jeep on the street outside the house. She knew Alex wouldn’t come into the house uninvited, so Sara slid out of bed, leaving the blankets to fall gently over Hayden’s side. She slid on her shoes and her pink bomber jacket, and slid down the stairs and out the front door. Alex was still in her car, waiting for Sara. Sara opened the passenger door and hopped in.

“Where were you?” she asked. One of Alex’s hands was on the steering wheel, the other on the gearshift. Her knuckles were bruised and unwrapped, but not bloody.

Sara brushed her fingers over the back of Alex’s right hand. Alex turned it over for her, offering out her palm. Sara laced their fingers, with lackadaisical participation from Alex. It was still a new thing, but she knew Alex understood how much it meant to Sara, so she allowed it.

“They won’t be a problem anymore,” Alex answered her earlier question. “They Italians. They’ve been subdued almost completely, just about dismantled. You’re safe now, Sara.”

Sara let out a breath. She hadn’t lived in fear of her life being taken by a rogue Italian who wanted revenge on the Russian mafia, but it had been enough to raise her hackles. Alex taking them out meant she was safe again, and she only had her boring, normal people problems to worry about, like taking her father to court for years of abuse.

(And she knew Alex would protect her through that, as well. They hadn’t drawn up a formal contract or anything, but Sara could feel it coming. It was almost a matter of time.)


	26. chapter 25

It was the day of her father’s trial, and Alex and Sara were outside of the courthouse. Hayden was waiting inside for her, as were the rest of her friends, but Sara was outside with Alex, because Alex didn’t like courthouses, but Sara liked Alex.

They were leaning against her Jeep again; that seemed to be the position in which Alex was most comfortable. Alex’s back was against her car and she was cradling Sara to her front. Sara’s fingers were on the bullet wound/almost bullet scar on Alex shoulder. It was healed enough that Alex didn’t need the sling anymore, but it was advised that she have a bandage. Alex ignored the doctor’s advice, though.

Sara was dressed in her Sunday best. Little kitten heels, and a nice dress that she’d had for a while but still looked new because the lack of frequency with which she wore it. She had a blazer over her shoulders, and her hair and makeup had been done by Blue and Minerva.

Alex’s hands were framing her waist. Sara was unwilling to let go, but she needed to go soon. She had been putting off going inside—seeing her father and mother and sister and all of the impartial people who were just doing a job that meant nothing to them while it meant everything to Sara—for a while, and she was running out of time.

Putting her head to Alex’s chest so she could hear her heartbeat, Sara asked, “You’re going to be here when I get out, right?”

Alex’s arms wrapped around her back, cradling her. Months ago, Sara never would have guessed that Alex could be this gentle. The scary, Russian mobster girl that Sara had first come in contact with months ago—Sara didn’t know her anymore. Alex had come to care for her, to some extent, and this Alex was very different from any other Alex Sara had witnessed before.

“Of course I’ll be here,” Alex answered. “Whatever you need. You know that.”

“Will it always be like that?” Sara asked, voice thin. “So many of the things that I thought would be constants in my life have broken away. Are you going to be one of them, too?”

Alex breathed a sigh through her nose, and Sara looked up. Alex’s eyes were averted, looking pointed toward the sky, and she looked uncomfortable. “Honestly?” she said. “It’s not going to be like this forever. I won’t always be here. Eventually you’re going to graduate high school and go off to college and make something of yourself. I’m going to be in the same position I’m in now, because my destiny has been chosen for me since before my birth. Yours hasn’t. You have the power to decide what you want to do with your life. You should take advantage of that.

“Of course I’ll always come when you call, when you need me, but our lives are, for the most part, going to go separate directions. We’ll be leading completely different lives. But that’s for the future. Right now, we have the next year. I believe we should make the best of that. Currently, you are going to go into that courtroom and kick your father’s ass, and I’m going to be out here when you get back. Focus on that, get through today, and we’ll deal with the rest when it comes up.”

Sara caught Alex’s eyes, and she knew she meant what she said. They weren’t forever, but they were for now. Sara could live with that.

She let her eyes fall shut and leaned up to press her mouth against Alex’s. That was new, too, but Sara was glad for it.

 

Two hours later, Sara ran out of the courthouse with a smile on her face and a stack of papers in her hands. The Jeep was in the same spot as when she’d left, as was Alex. Sara threw herself into Alex’s arms, squealing.

“I won!” she shouted. “I won! I won! I won! I got emancipated! I’m free! He’s going to prison for a really,  _ really  _ long time!”

Alex even managed to crack a smile at that. She allowed Sara to jump into her arms and held her off of the ground. Sara kissed her frantically in her excitement, and Alex accepted them easily.

“Do you know what you’re going to do now?” Alex asked, not setting Sara down.

Sara paused. “I hadn’t thought of that. I can’t stay with Hayden forever, can I? And I’m absolutely not going back to live with my mom and sister.”

“I’m not entirely certain of normal societal rules, but I do not believe so.” Alex look away for a moment, then smiled at Sara. “You can deal with that later. I’ll drop you off so you can celebrate with your friends; I have some calls to make.”

 

It was two days later when Alex showed up outside of Hayden’s house in her Jeep, coaxing Sara into it with to explanation of where they were going. It was reminiscent of their first few trips together, when Sara had still been afraid and Alex had been more of a monster.

Alex drove her to the neighborhood across the street, and down a few turns until Sara saw a small house with a for sale sign in the yard. Alex stopped in front of it, and parked the Jeep.

“What’s this?” Sara asked.

“This is your new house,” Alex answered. She pulled keys out of her pocket and tossed them to Sara like they were nothing. Sara was dumbstruck.

“You bought me a house?” she asked, barely able to get the words out.

“Where else would you have gone?” Alex asked like it should have been obvious. She handed Sara a garage door opener, and motioned for her to click it. Sara did, and sitting in the garage was a small gray Tesla. “You bought me a fucking car?” Sara asked, once again dumbstruck.

“I know you can’t legally drive yet, because of our nation’s stupid, archaic laws, but you’ll need one eventually.”

“Alex,” Sara protested. “You can’t do this.”

“I can do what I want,” Alex said stubbornly. “And what I want to do is support you financially for as long as you need, because that’s one of the number one causes of stress in people aged sixteen to twenty six. You don’t deserve that.”

“I can’t even legally own any of this!”

“It’s under my name. You don’t need to worry about that.”

“Alex!”

“I can stay with you for as long as you need. That won’t be permanent, of course, because I have my duties as well, but I’ll be there for you when you need me. I can get to you within ten minutes, and Hayden’s is just a walking distance away.”

Sara’s breath had been knocked straight out of her lungs for the past couple of minutes. This all was entirely absurd, wasn’t it? She was an underage, female Submissive. None of this was legal.

“One more thing,” Alex continued. She pulled a box out of her pocket, and opened it in front of Sara. Inside was a thin silver chain with a lithe, shining silver spider pendant hanging off the end of it. “I believed it was time we drew up a formal contract. Don’t you agree?”

Sara nodded, almost in a trance. Her eyes were glued to the house, and everything about it. A small white picket fence lined the yard, and the house itself was blue with white trim. From the outside, it seemed to be the perfect size for Sara herself. She jumped out of the car without Alex’s permission, eager to explore inside. She used her new key on the front door, and was greeted with dignified hardwood and gray walls . Plush tan carpet covered half of the first floor, and all of the second floor. There were somehow three bedrooms and two full bathrooms shoved into the small space, but it didn’t seem crowded. It seemed perfect.

Sara spun around in the living room, mesmerized. Alex was letting her revel in it by the doorway, leaning against the frame with one hand resting over her stomach. She’d taken her leather jacket off, and Sara knew it was sitting on the seat of her Jeep, and Sara could see every budge and contour of muscle in Alex’s shoulders, including all of the scars littered there. The most recent was the bullet wound in her shoulder. Alex hadn’t told Sara anything about it, but Sara assumed that was for her own benefit.

Alex pushed off of the doorway, and came to wrap her arms around Sara’s waist. Sara had come to learn that Alex was actually a very physically affectionate person, which matched up with Sara. Alex’s nose pressed against Sara’s, and Sara couldn’t restrain her smile.

 

That had been two and a half months ago.

James had been banned from the house almost immediately (excluding dire circumstances), because his relationship with Alex made Sara uncomfortable with the ways it mirrored her and her father’s. James had accepted with minimal threatening from Alex.

Sara’s new home had quickly become the prime meeting spot for all of Sara’s friends, after Alex’s goons had moved everything from her old house in. At first, it had been incredibly uncomfortable, having Alex and all of her friends at her new house at the same time, but they’d quickly grown comfortable around each other. (Or, at least, Sara’s friends had gotten comfortable around Alex.)

Alex never talked about herself, and especially not her work, but she sat with Sara in amicable silence when everyone else was over. Her time was split between the Mansion and Sara’s, because as Sara had learned when she researched, a Dom had to be in the house for a set amount of hours for this whole set up to be legal.

Alex and Sara’s relationship had quickly developed into what Alex had originally promised, after they had their own space. Sara hardly spoke of it with anyone but Hayden, but the part of her closet dedicated completely to her different collars said enough by itself. The chest filled with unmentionable objects beneath it was an entirely other story.

Sara had never experienced this feeling in her life before. She’d always ducked her head and pushed through, going to Hayden when it became too much, but Hayden had never been a permanent cure. This felt like it could be. The house, her friends, the singularly gentle touches that Sara received from everyone in her life, the contract she had with her new Dominant. It was all so much that Sara go overwhelmed sometimes, but Alex was always there to push her thoughts back, physically or proverbially. Alex was her cure-all, the only thing that Sara had ever wished for. It had been delivered to her in bathrooms in her school over the course of months, terrifying months that had caused her hair to fall out and more panic attacks than she could count, and Sara couldn’t be more grateful.

But most importantly, Sara was happy. Finally, she was happy.


End file.
